The grave soul
by solveariddle
Summary: AU Season Six with spoilers for 6x17 Valhalla and 6x18 Lauren. Ian Doyle goes after Emily, and she has to decide how far she will go to protect her team and especially Hotch. Rating due to the rather unusual set-up of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

First of all I have to admit that Emily's behavior in this story is probably out of character, but this is in no way meant as character bashing. The idea of Doyle going after her and wanting her back right in the middle of an established H/P relationship – with all the implied consequences – was just too tempting. Expect a ménage à trois and consider yourself warned in case you're not into this.

This was originally planned as a one shot, but after I started writing the story soon developed its own dynamics and I'm not sure as yet how many chapters there will be in total. I'll try to update as soon as I can, meaning most likely not more than once a week, because work and life are pretty demanding recently. Just that you know what to expect.

As always I am interested in what you think – especially since I am a little worried about the general set-up of this story. Too far fetched? Let me know! R&R please!

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a wanton imagination.**

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><p>She must have seriously pissed someone off in a former life. If there is such a thing. There is no other explanation for this mess. This mess that is her life.<p>

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><p>Two years ago everything had been perfect.<p>

Aaron Hotchner, her Unit Chief and the most farouche man she had ever met, had finally had the guts to ask her for a date. Well, it hadn't been exactly a date since their job hadn't allowed this. It had been more like a much too late dinner or much too early breakfast in a shabby diner in the middle of nowhere. And it had been their first and last date at the same time, because – really – dating is overrated when you already had been working together for several years.

Everything had been surprisingly easy and this should have been a warning, because nothing in her life ever is easy and uncomplicated. But back then it had been. The emotional bonding – no problem, as if they both never had dealt with any commitment issues. The fulfilling sex – expected, of course, yet better than Emily ever had dared to hope for (because he actually is anything than farouche in bed). Overall it had felt as if their two lives just had waited for the right moment to intertwine.

Even Strauss hadn't been an obstacle. Aaron – natch – had told her. (And when she had learned about it, Emily had teased him that he probably also had obtained Strauss' approval before sleeping with her for the first time. A joke he never had laughed about by the way.) But obviously Strauss had been convinced that his unit had already been so screwed up that one more failure could be overlooked due to their above average solution rate. Strauss had already made clear years ago that neither Hotch nor Emily would ever make any career moves and in her world there is no worse punishment than this.

Looking back Emily wishes that it is that simple, that career moves are the one and only thing she has to worry about. Anyway – at that time everything had felt just perfect. Had it been a movie this would have been the final credits with soft music. Happy endings. Save that there are no happy endings in Emily Prentiss' life.

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><p>One year ago a blast from the past intruded into her perfect fairy tale.<p>

Members of her former CIA team contacted Emily to inform her that her nemesis had escaped from prison. Ian Doyle. One of the most dangerous criminals in the world. Her undercover mission. Her former lover. Her past she desperately wanted to forget. Perhaps nothing would happen. Just be careful and watch out.

But then Doyle started a killing spree. Someone – most likely a mole within the CIA – apparently had given him the real names of the team that had chased him down, including hers, and from then on it was only a matter of time. He took out one after the other. And she knew that she would be the last on his list. Save the best for last. Isn't that what they say?

These days sometimes she wishes that he would have killed her. Doyle had something else in mind though. He forced her to choose, to make a deal – the life of her team, especially Hotch's, in exchange for her being Lauren again. _Lauren_... She had tried so hard to forget that name. Her fake identity when she had been undercover. The personality that had almost erased her own. The woman Ian Doyle loved, no, _still loves_.

Doyle knew that she had not killed his son, that she in fact had saved him – from growing up as his successor, always in danger, always on the run; from being a pawn in the games of the CIA to get to him. So he forgave her for taking Declan away and even for betraying him (and isn't that ridiculous that a wanted criminal forgives her?). He just wanted her back and there was no room for negotiation.

He caught her – in the middle of the day, in the middle of the street, still commanded enough men for an unsuspicious diversion – and her choice rather was a necessity to survive and to save her team, to save Aaron. Technically Doyle didn't force her to sleep with him, but he made clear what was at stake if she rejected him – no room for negotiation indeed. What should have felt disgusting and repulsive though, felt... somehow good instead. Ian Doyle always had been a skilled lover and he hadn't changed. And it was so easy for her to become Lauren again that it scared the shit out of her. But worst of all it made her feel... free in a dark and reckless way. Living without consequences. As if such a thing existed.

_We think like them._ The sentence flowed through her mind over and over when she was with Doyle again for the first time. A quote from a discussion she had had with Morgan once about the difference between them and the monsters they were chasing – or rather the not existing difference save that they are officially the good guys with the badge, because to catch a monster you have to think like one.

Doyle let her go afterwards, just let her go, as if it had been nothing but a casual irrelevant encounter, obviously certain that she wouldn't tell anyone about it – especially not the man who probably would kill him for this despite his code of honor. And he was right. Emily told no-one. Too ashamed to reveal her past as an undercover agent and the prize she had paid for profiling Doyle. And even more ashamed of this unfamiliar and up to now repressed character trait that welcomed his threats to make her sleep with him as the only possible way to act out her dark and reckless side that felt so addictive.

Emily had crossed the line with Ian Doyle back then and crossed it once more nowadays, not only _thought like _the monsters she was chasing every day, but acted upon it.

Two hours Doyle held her captive. Two hours that could be explained away conveniently with an extended, albeit rare, shopping tour on a sunny weekend. Two hours that changed everything.

The next times Doyle didn't have to catch her anymore. He asked Emily to come to him and she followed his orders and pretended that she had no other choice.

She was Lauren all over again.

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><p>And here she is today – living and breathing proof that nothing in her life will ever be all right.<p>

When she is with Aaron she is calm and content. Life is a river, soft and gentle. The cases they solve are still gruesome and haunting. The rest though is steady. He lets her recover her balance; something that is becoming increasingly difficult for her recently and more and more she fears that he might see the first crazes in the facade she desperately tries to keep up. Hotch is the last link to herself, to her _real_ self these days. She loves him, deeply, and no matter what she might be guilty of – this is no lie and will never change.

When she is with Ian she is reckless and wild. Life is a roaring ocean and she never knows what is waiting for her round the next corner. Every time she is with him she turns into her alter ego, Lauren, immediately and is out of balance afterwards. Cause and effect. She doesn't love him although she believes that he loves her – at least as much as a man like him is able to feel love or something similar to it. Still she can't stop seeing him. He is her shameful addiction.

She doesn't want to live only one of those lives, but it is slowly killing her that she lives both. Like parallel universes. At times, when she wakes up, she doesn't know anymore who she is – Emily or Lauren.

She never has been a cheater and in a weird way she doesn't consider what she does cheating, because to Aaron she is Emily and to Ian she is Lauren, even after all this time, even if he knows this is not her real name and calls her "love" anyway. She knows she is whitewashing this impossible situation, but in lack of better arguments this is what she tells herself.

The days pass by, turning into weeks and months. Her life is slipping from her grasp and she doesn't know how to retrieve it.

_Something will happen soon_ – that's the only thing she is sure of. It's inevitable.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

We all have our flaws and make mistakes and somehow this is much more interesting than being boringly perfect (at least to me), because that's what makes us human. Prentiss' character with her twisted past offers a lot of room for interesting stories and this is an attempt to tell one of them.

Phew! I'm rambling, so I guess you better start reading. ;-)

Thanks a lot for reviewing and favoring my story and the alerts – although I have to admit that I'm a little worried by the small number of reviews. So I'd really, _really_ appreciate it if you leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks!

**Disclaimer:**** No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a wanton imagination.**

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><p>Emily never would have thought that it is possible to cheat on a profiler. But it is. The magic word is trust.<p>

It is their job to second guess and distrust other people on a regular basis, to analyze and interpret every word and every action. Therefore they are all in desperate need of a safe haven. A place where they have to do none of these things. She is Aaron's safe haven and he is hers and as much as she loathes herself for doing to him what she does, her feelings for him are pure – she loves him unconditionally.

Some things cannot be explained. How she can be so happy with Hotch and at the same time lie to him. Like she does when she tells him that she is going to meet Vivian – an old friend from school she accidentally met again. Emily has not many friends. When she was younger her parents moved a lot and – with a few exceptions – she never stayed long enough in one place to make friends. Later on her demanding and often gruesome job made it difficult to befriend others, so these days she considers her team friends and family. Hence Hotch is glad that Emily has found someone outside their group to spend time with, someone who's world doesn't consist of death and diverse cruelties.

Except that Vivian doesn't exist. Emily made her up to surreptitiously meet Ian Doyle. It wasn't until a few weeks later, after she had used that false alibi for the first time, that she realized that obviously her subconsciousness had chosen the name very deliberately – Viv_Ian. _

Aaron never asks, because he trusts her. When she tells him something about her appointments with Vivian he listens with mild interest. They are a couple, but they accept that there have to be open spaces. They still have their separate apartments and after she meets _Vivian_, she sleeps at her apartment alone, takes a shower and washes Doyle's odor off her body. All trust aside there is no way Hotch wouldn't notice that.

During the first weeks and even months Emily was living in a latent panic that Doyle would act on his threats although she granted his demands. But nothing happened. Her BAU family and especially Hotch were and still are safe and sound. After a while Ian didn't impose the threats anymore explicitly. All the same they are there; the air of danger always surrounding him as a reminder that he is no man to toy with. Emily is aware that she lies to herself, that her dark side wants to be with him and only uses the threats as a poor excuse. Nonetheless she is completely uncertain what will happen if she actually decides to end this.

Of course she could tell someone about it and ask for help, could have done this right from the start – if not Hotch, then Morgan or Rossi, Garcia or JJ. They wouldn't even need to know the whole story, because of all the shame, but then... it would be over and like an alcoholic promising to stop drinking the next day and the next and the next, she just can't stop being with Ian Doyle, can't help being Lauren.

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><p>They meet intermittently. Everything else is not possible due to Emily's job and Doyle's... whatever he does. He is still on the run and she doesn't ask. Doyle sends her a text message with a date and time of day and Emily simply replies <em>yes<em> or _no_ (a no causing a prompt text message with an alternative date; a yes causing a prompt text message with an address, because they always meet at another place, never at the same place twice). Even the text messages are dangerous, so there are no phone calls, no names, no nothing beside this short and impersonal conversation to plan the next betrayal.

When they meet it is incessantly the same ritual. She knocks on the door and he lets her in. Doyle is always alone, but she knows that his men are somewhere nearby; he would never take the risk of being caught. They hardly speak. He tells her what he wants and each time it is something else, depending on the mood he's in. Sometimes he tells her to undress and he remains fully clothed; sometimes it's vice versa. Beyond the varying stages of bareness everything is possible, although he never takes her where she doesn't want to follow. Pushing the envelope. One dark soul recognizing the other.

Seven weeks and three days. That's how long Emily hasn't seen Doyle this time. She could even narrow it down to the exact hour, but that would be pathetic. When she knocks on the door and he lets her in, she instantly knows that something is different. He caresses her face with his hands and kisses her tenderly.

"I missed you," he says with his deep and raw voice and he has never said that before.

When he doesn't give her an explanation, Emily breaks the rule that she isn't allowed to speak, let alone ask questions, before he gives her permission to do so. It's part of the thrill. "What happened?" she asks him and he doesn't seem to be aware that she just has broken a rule, that this is completely different from their usual routine when he answers without hesitation.

"I've seen Declan." For a moment time stands still. Declan. His son. The child he wanted to raise together with her. Emily can't speak; there is a lump in her throat. Memories of the sweet boy overwhelm her – how she played with him, his innocent laughter, the gruesome scenario of his death she had to set up to save him.

"Did you...?" The words won't come; she is too confused. At the end of the day it all boils down to this, "What did you do?" Emily hopes with all her heart that he didn't do anything stupid, that he didn't destroy the finely woven net she has created to build a new life for the boy. She didn't tell him where to find Declan, but it comes as no surprise that Doyle has eventually found his son. She should have been prepared for this.

"He didn't see me. I just watched." Doyle's voice sounds calm, but she can hear something else – regret. He wanted more and contained himself. Why?

Doyle turns around, paces back and forth, grand strides across the room and Emily is really getting worried. Something is definitely wrong here. Then suddenly he stops and stands still, takes a deep breath and looks at her. The intensity of his gaze hits her like a blow.

"I'm backing out of business," he states as if he isn't on the run and can just stay at home and enjoy life. "You were right back then, when you asked me to do this, to do it for my son. I am a warrior, but I want another life for Declan. And I want you back. I want us to be together."

The room starts to spin and Emily tumbles slightly before she regains balance again. "You already have me back," she eventually gets out, well aware that this is not what he means.

"I have Lauren back," Doyle confirms her assumption and a cold fear grips Emily when she realizes what his next words will be. "But I want _you_. And I don't want it to be like this anymore." His gesture refers to the shabby room, to their brief encounters, to their hidden affair, to everything.

Emily opens her mouth to speak, even if she doesn't have the slightest idea what to respond. She never expected this to happen. But Doyle closes her mouth with a kiss and the sheer passion of it takes her breath away. This is what she actually is here for! Her dark needs awaken despite the fact that his words are still flashing through her mind like loose cannon balls. And she knows that they are just as dangerous. Emily can never in a million years agree to this. She loves Aaron and would never leave him. But what if she declines? Will Doyle finally act on his threats?

Apparently he is done with talking – at least for the moment. He leads Emily to a huge mirror and positions her in front of it, standing behind her, so that they both can watch what is happening. And when his hands slowly unbutton her shirt and caress her bare skin, brush over the silky material of her bra, tease her, she pushes everything else, the strange aura that surrounds him, his dangerous question and the fallout that will for sure follow her answer to the back of her mind and concentrates only on what she feels.

By now Doyle knows how to drive Emily, or rather _Lauren_, crazy and she anticipates no less. It's not only his mesmerizing touch; it's the whole situation – the fact that they watch each other, lock eyes in the mirror. When her breath becomes increasingly erratic, he knows it's time for the next level. Emily expects him to lead her to the bed, to the couch or at least to the wall, because that's what usually happens, but not this time. Instead he opens the zipper of her jeans and pushes them down just so much that he can touch her. "Look at me," he whispers huskily. Their eyes meet in the mirror and she doesn't know what's going on, because that is not the Ian Doyle she knows. This is a tender and caring version, someone who puts his needs on the back burner. She's not sure that she likes it. This is not what she came here for. But it feels too good to think twice. Much too good. He takes it slow and makes her almost beg for release. When he pushes her over the edge in the end, she can't help but break the eye contact and lets her head fall back against his chest, his firm grip keeping her on her feet.

Slowly but surely the world becomes the focus of her attention again. They are still standing in front of the mirror and Doyle smiles at her. The typical smile of a predator who is pleased with the prey that he has hunted down. Yet the predator would make the next move, would satisfy his needs. Doyle however doesn't get ready to do so, although she feels his arousal that has to be painful by now. Instead the intensity of his gaze increases even more.

"I love you," he breathes in her hair.

Doyle has said it before and seems to have accepted that she never says it back. That's the one betrayal Emily is not capable of. It's only when he repeats the words and adds something that she realizes that this predator hasn't finished the hunt yet, but just has started it.

"I love you, _Emily_," Doyle says and her name sounds like a foreign language coming out of his mouth, because she is _not_ supposed to be _Emily_, when she is with him, she is supposed to be _Lauren_.

Hence she starts to respond without thinking about it, "Don't call..."

"Shh...," he interrupts her and casually fastens up her jeans. "Don't say anything now. Think about what I told you. I expect your answer next time."

_Don't say anything now_. Despite his tenderness and his confession of love this sounds like a threat. _So what if she says the wrong thing? Will her team still be safe? And what about Hotch? What about Lauren?_

Emily looks in the mirror. Their positions and her still open shirt that looked sexy and reckless a few minutes ago suddenly look undignified. She crosses the line with Doyle, because there _is_ a line – well defined by a name, _Lauren_. But he just has blurred the lines, has called her by her real name, and _Emily_ never would allow Ian Doyle to touch her that way.

Her skin starts to prickle and breathing all of a sudden becomes difficult. She has to get out of here. Fast.

Doyle lets her go. He is a predator after all. And he knows where to find his prey.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

The quote at the end is taken from 6x17 Valhalla and also contains the title of this story. I considered it to be fitting when I re-watched the episode recently.

In this chapter things start to get complicated, because Hotch is getting wary. This chapter is only Emily and Hotch and the next chapter will be only Emily and Doyle (at least that's the current idea) to show both sides of this tangled situation. (And frankly I'm not quite sure at the moment how to untangle it, but we'll see...)

Thank you for reading this story and giving the perhaps rather unusual approach to Prentiss/Hotch/Doyle a chance. Your reviews and alerts make my day, so R&R please. ;-)

**Disclaimer:** **No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a wanton imagination.**

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><p>Hotch suspects that something is wrong.<p>

Intra-team profiling is a no-go at the BAU, especially since the member of the team he wants to profile is his girlfriend. He can't ignore the signals though. She is fidgety, nervous, sometimes almost jumpy and that's not like her at all. Hotch observes all this (nothing too obvious, small changes, perhaps the other team members don't even recognize it) and there could be plenty of reasons, _harmless_ reasons for it. However the longer she behaves that way the more difficult it becomes for him _not_ to scrutinize, _not_ to connect the dots. He is well aware that he is on the verge of profiling Emily Prentiss.

It is one of the rare evenings without paperwork, without a case that demands their presence in another city. An occasion to stay at home or meet friends, to do whatever ordinary people do. All the more Hotch is irritated when Emily shrugs his question off rather rudely, whether they spend the evening together, and murmurs something about having to do the laundry. A fragile excuse and for a brief moment anger flares up in him, because apparently he is not even worth the effort to come up with a better face-saver.

Nonetheless he lets her get away with it for the time being, stays at the office and occupies himself with administrative tasks. He can't tell whether it's his anger that has to cool down or whether he just needs time to ponder over what to do next. No matter what, it takes him two hours before he decides to drive to her apartment. Perhaps he can help her with the "laundry".

Emily doesn't answer the door, doesn't answer the phone and when he hears no sound coming from inside of her apartment, a cold fear creeps into his body. What is going on? Of course the line about having to do the laundry was nonsense. A cop-out because she didn't want to see him tonight and didn't want to say it to his face. It's not her style to beat around the bush and taking time out is not extraordinary for one of them; thus something is clearly up. So far though he didn't assume it to be something bad, perhaps just erratic mood swings everybody is allowed to have every now and then. Now he is not so certain anymore.

Hotch has a key to her apartment and even if he feels uncomfortable using it in this situation, he has to make sure that she is all right, because this is getting increasingly weird. After he has checked that she in fact is not in her apartment, he steps outside. It is dark by now and just when he walks towards his parked car, uncertain what to do next, Emily approaches in her running clothes. Obviously she decided to go out for a jog and this isn't unusual, wouldn't it already be dark and hadn't he seen her come out of the unlit park. She is not fearful, but she doesn't take unnecessary risks. Her job illustrates what might happen otherwise every day.

She spots him right before she is about to enter her apartment building.

"Hey...," Emily looks a bit surprised but not unhappy to see him.

It's the slight flicker in her eyes, the almost imperceptible tilt of her head, her fidgeting fingers. It happens so fast that Hotch is unable to prevent it – he already has connected the dots, already has profiled her and is confronted with the result point-blank. This is no temporary mood swing or misinterpretation on his part. Emily is deliberately hiding something from him. And it started several weeks ago after her last appointment with Vivian, her old friend from school.

Hotch is no man to dodge a controversy, but he also respects boundaries and has learned that patience pays off. Albeit he is certain now that Emily conceals something, he also sees in her eyes that she doesn't like it, sees her love for him. Therefore he is torn between his trust that she will tell him whenever she's ready (and judging by her tense expression this won't be tonight) and the need to know what is going on. He decides to steer a middle course.

"I just wanted to drop by on my way home to make sure that you're ok," he offers as an explanation as to why he's here. "You seemed to be a little... stressed out earlier." That's only half the story. He _wants_ to make sure that she's ok. She behaved _stressed out_. But there are other thoughts flashing through his mind. _Why do you behave so differently? What happened several weeks ago when you met Vivian? What happened today that prompted you to jog alone in the park at night? Can I help you? Let me help you..._

Emily's facial expression softens and she looks almost guilty, but tries to hide it behind one of her poker faces that are usually not meant for him.

"Yeah, you're right," she admits. "I'm stressed out and needed some time alone. Sorry for the lame excuse. I should have known that you'd understand." He can tell that this is only half the story too. That there is more to this. Her words though are definitely honest, even if she still bottles something up.

They never have been in such a situation before. Two years may sound like a fairly long time, but the truth is that most of the time they are working. So compared to other couples they just don't spend that much time alone and even after two years together there are to this day new situations they have to learn to handle. Like this one. Hotch has to decide whether to confront her here and now or to let it go for tonight, although she is too important to him to let things slide much longer. Sooner or later he will get his answers. But right now he decides not to push her, to let her choose the timing.

Hotch pulls Emily into a brief but tender embrace – always hesitant to show a public exchange of endearment, albeit with her he tends to make exceptions more often. After a kiss and the assurance that yes, they both are tired and will go to sleep soon, she turns around to enter her apartment block. It's only now that Hotch notices that she carries her weapon in an ankle holster and instinctively he grabs her wrist to stop her from walking away, because the gun might add a dangerous dimension to whatever she is not telling him.

"You leave your cell phone in your apartment, but take your gun with you?" he is too surprised and concerned not to ask.

"You were in my apartment?" she seems to be taken aback by this, even if it isn't _that_ extraordinary. He is not anyone after all. Let alone that she answers a question with a question. Avoidance.

"Yes," Hotch confirms, a little indignantly by now, because of her avoidance and – really – what does she expect? "You told me you'd do your laundry and even if it was a pretense, it suggested that you'd be at home tonight. So when you didn't answer your door and didn't answer your phone, I was worried and when I checked your apartment I saw your cell phone there. Explaining why you didn't answer it, not explaining why you didn't take it along in the first place. Especially since you went for a jog in the park. At night." Hotch is aware that this sounds reproachfully and that he just uttered some of the things he didn't want to discuss tonight, but it's too late now. He said it right out in the open.

Moments like this make Emily realize how randomly everything could fall apart. The answer to Hotch's question, why she took the gun along and left the cell phone behind, is as painful as easy, but it is nothing she can tell him just yet. She has to deal with Doyle first and then she will hopefully be able to save her relationship with Hotch. She can't think about other possible options right now, denies herself the devastating thought that it won't work out, that she will lose everything.

Hotch watches her intensely, well aware that she hasn't given him an answer as yet. This is the moment he wanted to elude. For the first time he feels something close to distrust. There is a tight knot in his stomach. _What is she hiding?_

Emily sees it in his eyes. He makes no attempt to cover up his hurt that she doesn't confide in him. Fear shoots through her veins; the idea of losing him causing her almost physical pain. She can't allow this to happen. Ever. In an instant she closes the small distance between them, takes his hand and squeezes it as if the contact alone is enough to straighten things out.

"Aaron...," she starts and then stops, because she doesn't know what to say. How convince him of the only truth that matters – that she loves him – when she can't tell him about the horrible things she did to him, did to herself basically? How explain anything without telling him about Lauren? Finally she settles for the half-truth. There isn't more she can offer him just yet. "I have to sort some things out, some things from my past. And I'm sorry if I have been distant or even unapproachable during the last weeks. This has nothing to do with us. Please, believe me."

It is the first time she blatantly lies to him, because how can she tell him that it has nothing to do with them, when she has been sleeping with another man for the last months? The fact that it has been her alter ego Lauren sleeping with Ian Doyle lessens the betrayal only a bit. A drop in the ocean. Therefore Emily has a bitter taste in her mouth as soon as the words are out. Guilt. Shame. Her only excuse being that she knows Hotch wouldn't leave tonight if he knew that whatever she isn't talking about concerned their relationship. And she can't risk that he is around her tonight. He usually is restrained and professional. All the same she has learned by now that he changes into his stubborn and dogged twin when it comes to her. And as erotic and attracting it is that she has this effect on him, as dangerous it is in this situation. Once Hotch suspects what is going on, hell will break loose.

He still watches her with an uncomfortable intensity and doesn't react or respond. She knows that look. In an interrogation it is the last warning for the unsub to confess freely. Her pulse rate speeds up, her body temperature rises and despite her poker face Emily is pretty sure that Hotch is about to recognize all the signs that she is lying. Right now only his emotional involvement saves her from being exposed. She touches his face, caresses his cheek. "Hotch..." Although he is _Aaron_ to her these days, whenever it comes to the worst, she falls back on this name that somehow defines him for her. "Please...," she very rarely pleads with him to do something – frankly he can't remember that she has ever done this before. "We're fine!" she assures him and the man in him knows that he believes her against his better judgement; his instincts tell him quite another matter. But he doesn't want to listen to the profiler in him right now, because he wants them to be fine. He loves and trusts her. It's as simple as that.

"It's ok," Hotch takes Emily's hand and kisses it softly. "Tell me whenever you're ready. But don't wait too long. And let me know if I can do anything."

She nods and waits for a moment to make certain that he really means it. "Thanks," she whispers, when she discerns the reassurance in his eyes, and kisses him briefly before she turns around and finally enters her apartment block.

No word about the gun or why she left the cell phone in her apartment, Hotch realizes and the inner calm he felt a few seconds ago starts to fade away. For a heartbeat he considers following and confronting her. Then again this is exactly what he doesn't want to do and Emily Prentiss is not any woman. She can take care of herself and most likely carries the gun just because she realized that it is risky to jog in the park after dusk, but wanted to do it anyway. Like she usually does what she's in the mood for. The disquieting feeling remains though and Hotch has to persuade himself that Emily is safe and sound in her apartment, that he will see her the next morning and that he will hopefully get some answers soon. Even his patience has limits.

From the inside of the building Emily observes how Hotch gets into his car and drives away. It takes all the strength she can muster up not to follow him and confess everything – right here and now. But she reminds herself of a quote that couldn't describe her situation any better and that she clings to desperately. _Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets and takes its own punishment in silence. _So at least that much is clear. She won't give in to her weakness. Hotch won't pay for her mistakes just because she feels the need to ease herself and confess her secrets. She will find another way to get out of this mess. Whatever punishment life holds for her.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

Whew! This chapter was difficult to write. My version of Ian Doyle is not necessarily the one you know from television (although I hope that it comes close) and since he didn't have that much screen time I had to guess how he would behave in a situation like this. Actually this is what fan fiction is about, I know. ;-) What I want to say is that my intention was to describe a character that is neither good nor bad, but is stuck somewhere in between (and of course this can be no moral discussion, because otherwise he clearly is the bad guy).

Just as the last chapter dealt exclusively with Emily and Hotch, this chapter is solely about Emily and Doyle. During the next chapters I guess the team will show up too, but I'm not sure yet to what extent since the main focus of this story are Prentiss/Hotch/Doyle.

There is some dark stuff going on in this chapter between Emily and Doyle. Somehow it all ended up much darker (and much longer) than I originally intended. So rating for language and content. This isn't going to be nice...

To save the best for last – isn't it great that Thomas Gibson also is back for the next season? I'm so excited and can't wait (although I am also afraid that they might totally screw up how they bring the team back together and Prentiss back...).

Thank you for the reviews and the alerts and now... R&R please! ;-)

**Disclaimer:** **No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>Emily watches the tail lights of Hotch's SUV disappear in the darkness and loneliness enwraps her. For a moment she considers following Hotch, the need to be with him almost overwhelming, the thought of spending the rest of the night alone unbearable.<p>

She accesses the elevator anyway and takes a deep breath when she notices that her hands are shaking. The whole situation is increasingly getting to her.

Doyle texted her several times in the last few weeks. Several dates to set up their next appointment. Several dates she all refused. It happened before; sometimes it's difficult to find a date on which both of them are available. But it is unusual. And of course her refusal is so much more conspicuous after what happened during their last encounter. Then, yesterday, he sent her a message with an address, a time and the demand to be there tonight. There was no addendum to his demand, no _please_, no _if you can _– he expected her to come, probably knows that she is not off on a case, because he has his spies everywhere.

When she left the bullpen earlier she still hadn't made a decision whether to meet Doyle or not and this had made it impossible for her to be with Hotch tonight.

Emily knows that she has to bring this matter to an end. She senses her alter ego, Lauren, retreating and vanishing, allowing her to regain control over her life. When Ian reached out to Emily instead of Lauren, her two universes collided and her alter ego didn't survive the impact. By telling Emily that he loves her, Doyle doomed Lauren to shatter into a thousand pieces. This won't happen at one go though. Lauren's fragmentation is a slow and painful process that requires time. And Emily can feel that her alter ego is not ready to let go of her yet.

Tick. Tock. Time is running out. An hour ago she was supposed to meet Doyle and didn't show up, instead texted him a message that she couldn't make it and hoped for the best. She is aware that this is denial, that she delays the needful, but she has no plan as yet. The only thing she knows is that she feels threatened only breathing because of the uncertainty what will happen next.

Jogging in the park at night was a risky outlet for this nervous uncertainty that has become her basic attitude recently. It also was a deliberate provocation for Ian Doyle to come after her – something she had sure as hell expected to happen and one more reason she couldn't be with Hotch tonight and endanger his life in addition to her own. Doyle didn't show up in the park though and the adrenaline rush is slowly abating, making room for even more guilt to kick in after her discussion with Hotch. Guilt caused by her lies. Lies that were a necessary precaution to get him out of the danger zone. Lies all the same. She couldn't answer Hotch's questions, because how could she have possibly told him that a cell phone is an unnecessary burden to take along when you prepare to fight to the death? That the only useful thing to take along in such a situation is a gun.

Emily is hyperaware of the confusing thoughts and feelings that flash through her mind. In one scenario she talks Ian out of his idea of a happy life together with her and Declan and on some days she almost convinces herself that this might be possible, that they will be able to talk. The other scenario ends with at least one of them dead, because – in all honesty – does she indeed think that Ian Doyle is a man of words? He will let his physical strength and weapons do the talking the moment he is certain that her answer is not the one he wants to hear. You don't reject a man like Ian Doyle and expect him just to walk away. The fallout will be devastating.

_If there is the slightest chance that you can talk him out of this why didn't you meet him tonight?_ In fact this is the question – or rather the answer to it – that bothers her the most. She knows exactly why she didn't go to see Doyle tonight. Even if she might be able to talk him out of this, she is not convinced that she will do it – once she is near him, once Lauren prepares to take over again. There's nothing worse than not being able to trust yourself – especially in a situation as dangerous and tangled as the one she is in. She is scared to death that there is a chance – as low as it might be – that it won't be Lauren who shatters into a thousand pieces, but that her real self will lose this battle and only Lauren will survive. The third scenario she doesn't think through to the end.

Her apartment greets her with a reproachful silence. She feels exhausted and spent, eager to take a relaxing shower before going to bed and falling – hopefully – into a dreamless sleep. Something she isn't allowed to indulge in often lately. The nightmares are always there – whether she is asleep or awake. She lives in one. Emily knows though that delaying tactics are no solution. All the more after her encounter with Hotch. He is wary, perhaps even starts to distrust her and he deserves none of this. So tomorrow she will work out a plan how to solve this mess.

On her way to the bathroom she pulls her shirt off just when she hears his voice that is as cold as ice, "Too bad you couldn't make it!"

She spins around and in one move drops her shirt and draws the gun from her ankle holster. Doyle comes out of the shadows so that they are standing face to face only a few steps away from each other.

Emily can't believe that this is happening. She is keenly aware of the imminent danger she's in and that she is in no position to complain, because she can't exactly claim presumption of innocence for herself, but all she can think of is that she never seems to be allowed to have a damn break. She is so tired and she doesn't want to do this right now. Just can't. But here he is.

"Hello Ian," her voice doesn't give away how tired she feels. As if she has been running for her whole life. All she longs to do is stop and stand still.

She might be tired, but she is not stupid. Although she's the one with the gun and he seems to be unarmed (or at least hasn't produced his weapon yet), Emily knows that she won't stand a chance against him when push comes to shove. Her only chance is to shoot him point-blank and for a millisecond she considers pulling the trigger. It would be over – perhaps. She doesn't know where his army is. Maybe he even has brought some of his men to her apartment. Anyway she isn't able to do it. She can't kill him in cold blood. Too much happened between them. He is a wanted criminal, a murderer, a threat to mankind, but he never hurt _her _– at least until today.

"Is this your answer to my suggestion to share my life with you and Declan? To stand me up? To hold me at gunpoint?" Doyle smiles, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes and his low voice sounds more like a dangerous growl.

"It was just a reflex. You could have been a burglar," Emily says and just as it is true it is not, because she pulled the gun _after_ she had recognized his voice. And she still doesn't lower it or put it down.

"Do you feel threatened? Do you feel as if you have to protect yourself from me?" Doyle doesn't move, but she senses that he is angry beyond anything she has ever experienced; the rage in his eyes like a wild animal waiting to jump at her.

"You are a dangerous man," she states the obvious, aware that this is perhaps not the best way to cool off his anger, but she doesn't know what else to say. Even if he never physically hurt her, the fact remains that he intimidated her into sleeping with him by threatening her team with violence, reducing hereby the fact that he didn't directly threaten her to an irrelevant question of semantics. And this is why she doesn't put the gun down.

"Isn't that what you are looking for? Danger?" This time the vicious smile reaches his eyes and he smirks.

Emily feels the slight change in the air. As if someone else has entered the room to join them. It is no physical presence though. It is Lauren. She is here. And she wants Ian. He senses it too.

Doyle's eyes smolder like fire and she tenses up; something is about to happen. He takes one step forward and Emily cocks the gun, fighting for control over her alter ego.

"Don't...," she whispers. And her words are meant for him as well as for herself. _Don't let it happen! Don't let Lauren take over!_

The adrenaline has kicked in again with full force. There is a humming in Emily's ears. The world reduces to her gun and him. One more step and she will shoot him – most likely, probably, maybe. Or maybe not. She looks into his eyes and remembers the first time she kissed him, the first time they made love. Then she realizes that her memories provided her exactly with this term "made _love_" and she knows that she will never be able to pull the trigger as long as he doesn't also point a weapon at her and threatens her life.

At the very moment she decides to lower the gun, Doyle suddenly closes the gap between them so that the barrel of the gun is pressed against his chest. Instinctively Emily tries to pull the gun away, but he doesn't let her. Instead he grabs her hand that holds the gun and even increases the pressure to his chest while his other hand takes hold of her neck.

They are so close that her upper body is in contact with his, the material of his jacket scratching her bare skin, because her shirt still lays on the floor somewhere and she wears only her sports bra top. His face is a blurred vision when he speaks.

"Come with me or end it," his voice is strong and serious. He means it. "Now!" Doyle might be mad at her and barely suppresses his anger. This is more than rage though. This is a life and death decision and he leaves it up to her to choose.

On a rational level Emily doesn't have to think twice. None of the two options are worth to be genuinely considered. She already decided against shooting him point-blank and a life without her job, her team, Aaron is not even remotely realistic. Nevertheless part of her wants to be with him. So bad. Lauren. Hence she doesn't say anything, afraid that her voice will betray her.

"You offered me a way out, remember, back then," Doyle's voice is hoarse, thick with emotion and she knows in an instant what he is talking about. When she had been undercover and learned that he has a son, she had offered him a way out of his life as a warrior, as a wanted criminal. It had been not like her at all, this rash and thoughtless offer. She had had no plan, but back then she had been ready to give up her life to be with him, to raise his son. The memory is as surreal as painful. In this moment she had realized that it had become more than an undercover mission. Much more.

"Yes," eventually Emily gathers enough strength to speak. "But this was back then..."

"I know," he interrupts her. "But we can still do it. Get out. Together." Doyle isn't used to not getting what he wants. For him it's only about the how, because the what is out of question. He fixes the targets and usually no-one dares to second-guess him.

"No, we can't," it is the first time that she openly contradicts him. "I don't have the contacts anymore to get us out; so this version of _getting out_ would mean being on the run for the rest of our lives. Declan has a new and safe life already. It would be irresponsible to retrieve him. And..." Doyle snorts. He doesn't want to listen to this. No-one said it would be easy.

"And above all," Emily needs to finish the sentence. She has to do it as long as she feels strong enough. Already she can feel the shiver start. As if she is an addict about to flush drugs. "I can't be Lauren anymore." For a brief irrational moment she almost expects some force of a seedy underworld to appear in Lauren's name and claim that she takes these last words back. And in a way this is what happens, because Ian kisses her with an almost brutal passion. It is one of the kisses that usually make her beg for more. Right now though Emily doesn't dare to move or even breathe due to the gun that is still caught between their bodies, anxious that she might involuntarily pull the trigger. His blood would be all over her.

"Wait...," she hisses out of breath, like she always sounds when he kisses her. Only that now it is more fear than lust that causes her problems breathing. "The gun...," she tries again, really wants him to stop, but he doesn't ease his firm grip on her and she is trapped, unable to move, unable to do anything.

Then – just as sudden as he started the kiss – Doyle breaks it off, although he still doesn't release her. The apartment is completely silent except for their panting breath.

"If you can't be Lauren anymore, then be Emily. I told you I want _you_ not some role you play." It is the logical consequence and he told her before. It also is the one thing she will never be able to do. Therefore his words help her to gain the upper hand and push her alter ego to the back of her mind.

"Let me put the gun down," she says and is astonished how normal her voice sounds. This is his answer. Lauren is gone and Emily was never under his spell and won't obey him. Ian realizes it too and finally relinquishes his hold on her and steps back.

Emily puts the gun on a dresser next to her. Relief flows through her – nobody got hurt – and she allows herself a moment of weakness, staggers slightly on shaky legs, leans against the dresser to steady herself and takes a deep breath. Then reality catches up with her. The cards are stacked against her. She won't agree to Doyle's misconception of a life together and he knows it now. She shivers, the temperature-controlled air cold on her bare skin, and she bends over to pick up her shirt and put it on again just when he kicks it away.

"You don't need this," something in his voice has changed that makes her reconsider her decision to put the gun down, but it's too late. With a few quick steps he positions himself next to her as an adamant obstacle between her and the gun. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

_Well_, she thinks bitterly, _seems as if scenario one failed_. Not that she has reason to be proud of herself – not shooting him occupied her so much that she missed the chance to really talk to him. Irony of fate that she might soon wish she didn't put in great efforts to keep him alive, because since she somehow managed to avoid scenario three, this leaves only scenario two and the unsettling question who will survive.

Doyle's cold angry eyes stare at her. He has turned into a stranger. Everything is different. She can't feel it anymore. The thrill being Lauren, the thrill being with him. It is wrong that he is here. This is _her_ apartment – _Emily's_ apartment and he was never supposed to meet Emily. Lauren doesn't live here. She never has.

"Please, go now," her voice that was strong and confident only moments ago is reduced to a whisper. It felt good to gain the upper hand on Lauren, but without her she doesn't know how to deal with Ian. Lauren was her shield. Without her she is vulnerable, because while Lauren was looking for danger, Emily has too much to lose.

If he leaves nothing is solved, but she still lives and that's all that counts for the time being. The rest will have to wait.

Doyle shows no visible reaction; his face frozen like a mask. "You know that I can't do that," he sounds almost apologetic and this distracts her for the brief moment it takes him to grab her around her waist and tug her to her bedroom. She struggles a little, but doesn't actually fight back, because the last thing she needs is the situation to escalate even more. In between she sees the shapes of at least two other men, confirming her assumption that he has brought along some of his troops.

He shoves her on her bed and the sudden wave of rage, she feels, is almost blinding in its intensity. This is _her_ apartment, _her_ bedroom! He is defiling her refuge. How can he _dare_! Then again this most likely is exactly the point.

Doyle stands right in front of her bed and pulls off his jacket; his pure physical presence menacing enough so that she has to suppress the urge to crawl away from him. He detects the anger (and probably also the fear, even if she tries desperately to hide it) in her eyes and utters a laugh that sounds more like a bark.

"You don't want to come with me. You don't want to end it. Now what is left over?" he says, casually pulling off his sweater and revealing nothing but smooth and muscular skin underneath. It is, of course, a rhetorical question. They are in her bedroom and he has started to undress. Now what is left over? Doyle answers his own question. "You owe me some more. The last time we met it was only you who had all the fun."

So now this is just about sex? And then he will leave her alone? As if it was that simple. Emily's thoughts are racing. There are other men in her apartment and the door to her bedroom is wide open so that they will be able to watch whatever happens between them. What are her options? Flight or fight? Rather hopeless. She is outnumbered and doomed to fail one way or the other. What else? Give up? Never! Play along? Her stomach tightens at the thought. _You can do this_, she tells herself. _Whatever it takes to survive._

Ian positions himself on the bed next to her. His hand reaches out and touches her bare abdomen. Emily can't recount how many times she felt his touch before, but never like this, never against her will and she holds her breath to avoid flinching. He kisses her neck and is so close that their legs entangle. This would be the exact moment to risk a fight or flight, even if she is physically inferior. With his men in her apartment it is futile though. She would never make it to the door or at least to her gun. Why had she been so naïve and put it down?

Emily closes her eyes. She rarely, no _never_, sinks into self-pity, but this – what her life has become these days – is such a farce and there is no-one to blame than herself. How could she screw it all up so badly? And now that... no, she corrects herself, there's still a chance it won't happen, so... _if_ Doyle really will have his way with her against her will (she doesn't allow herself to even think the word rape, because everything else aside, how could she possibly cover something like this up and act as if nothing happened?), this most likely is part of the punishment fate has chosen for her.

"Why didn't you shoot me?" Ian's voice pulls her out of her reflections. He strokes her arm pensively. Perhaps the warlord is not as unaffected by all this as he wants her to believe. She always has been his weak point.

"God, Ian!" Emily shakes her head in disbelief and pushes herself away from him until she is seated against the head section of her bed. As if the situation wasn't surreal enough already. _All right, let's talk about why we're not able to kill each other!_ But it is good to feel anger instead of fear and perhaps this will distract him and open a chance for her to get out of this more or less unharmed after all. "You're actually asking me this? Well, I didn't shoot you, because of... _us_." Doyle's eyes darken at this and she realizes that he isn't sure what she feels for him. Since he dragged her to her bedroom, as if she was his prey, she has avoided eye contact, but now she searches for his gaze. "Ian...," she doesn't know what to say. It's too complicated. But she doesn't have to say anything. He already has made up his mind.

"You have always been the more dangerous one of us," Ian lets on. Emily opens her mouth to contradict him, but he already continues. "I know what you want to say. I might have killed more people than you." Oh, yes, she'd say so. A lot more! And for completely different reasons! "But with me what you see is what you get. You however have the ability to mess with people's minds. I still don't know who you are. Sometimes I wasn't sure whether I wanted to fuck or to kill you." Emily swallows hard at his admission that she was in more danger meeting him over the last months than she was aware of. "You don't need a weapon to kill that's why you didn't shoot me. You just need to make me love you. You killed me once by walking away and you're about to do it again. Just like that. So, you tell me, who's the more dangerous one of us, _love_?"

Emily is completely taken aback, speechless. Did Ian Doyle just tell her that he is afraid of her? Of the power she has over him? The picture he painted of her personality is none she is proud of, but partially she has to agree. She knows how to mess with people's minds. And she deliberately messed with his. Ever since her childhood Emily Prentiss has been whoever people want her to be – the lovely daughter, the ambitious student, the successful career woman. Who would have thought that the pressure to always be so perfect, _too_ perfect had the ability to create an alter ego like Lauren? A woman who craved to give in to her dark sides, who enjoyed having emotional and sexual sway over a man like Ian Doyle. But she doesn't need Lauren anymore. Now that she has settled down in life. Her affair with Ian was a last rise up against this.

"I'm not like that anymore," she says and feels the realization sink in that this is true, really true, not just wishful thinking, even if he most likely won't understand it. Doyle talks about _Lauren_, talks about _Emily_, but he doesn't know who she is. Insofar he is right.

Perhaps at the present time no-one actually knows her; she has to admit this. But she has a pretty good idea who she wants to be the _only_ person to know her inside out from now on. Inadvertently she glimpses at her nightstand. There is a photo of Hotch and her. It isn't even a good one – blurry and darkish. Garcia took it with her cell phone on one of the rare nights the team went out together to celebrate. Hotch has his arms around her and they smile at each other in a perfectly happy togetherness. This makes it so precious, blurry and darkish or not. It is the last thing she looks at when she goes to sleep and the first thing she sees when she wakes up. It is her future and the possibility that maybe she forfeited her chance of a life together with Hotch by cheating on him is a truth too bitter to accept.

Only now she notices that Doyle studies her feature and she hopes that her facial expression didn't give away too much.

"So if you're not like that anymore, why don't you stop messing with my mind and come with me?" Ian has pushed himself closer to her again; his mouth is flush against her ear and involuntarily his low voice makes her flesh crawl. Her skin is a traitor and still remembers him. Old habits die hard.

Emily holds her breath. They have already been here tonight and she highly doubts that this is her second chance to talk him out of it. His voice is too tense, just as his body language.

"I already told you," she begins hesitantly nonetheless, but his harsh gesture stops her. "No skiving! The truth," Ian demands forcefully and the look in his eyes changes from quizzical to sinister when he reaches over, grabs the photo of her and Aaron and holds it out to her. So she _did_ give away too much by looking at it and he saw it.

"_This_ is the reason why you won't come with me, isn't it?" he gasps out. Sometimes you miss the forest for the trees. Ian of course knows about her relationship with Hotch, but he obviously assumed that it had the same quality as her affair (or whatever you may call it) with him. Just sex, no feelings – at least as far as she is concerned. That this is part of her personality. Not the marrying type, not the type to fall in love. Doyle used her fondness for her team to threaten her without realizing that in one particular case it is much more than fondness. And one inconsiderate moment – a photo on a nightstand, the expression in her eyes when she looked at it – gave it all away. The irrepressible rage in his eyes, that calmed down in between, is back. And this time he will set it free. Emily is dead certain about that. Now what is left over? She messed with his mind, made him fall in love with her, hurt him and besides killing her (or her team, but she doesn't want to think about that right now) the only possible punishment included in his repertory is to subject her physically. One of the oldest coping mechanisms in the world.

"Tell me," Ian pulls her close rudely, presses her against the head section and crushes her with his body. "Does he make you scream his name? Like I make you scream mine? I guess your _Unit Chief_ is rather uptight about sex, otherwise you wouldn't starve for me the way you do." Emily pushes him away disgusted and tries to get out of the bed, but he pulls her back into a lying position and throws himself on top of her. Only that this time she puts up a fight. She has no time to think about it and just reacts. He insulted Hotch, dragged their relationship through the mire and she can't allow that, even if she knows that she stands no chance against him, even if her blows and her struggle are perhaps not more than warm-up for him. But this is no rational thinking. Ian might be furious, but she can do rage too. She is, albeit physically inferior, fit and a fighter and she will bring some bruises on him never mind the ones she will definitely have on her body tomorrow.

When he assaults her lips with a kiss – and there is no other word for the brutality he forces on her – she bites him and tastes blood. "Damn!" Ian retreats a little, only to intensify his attack. Apparently there is no limit anymore to his mercilessness. The unleashed monster. His left hand grabs her wrists and he pushes her arms in a painful angle over her head, while his other hand pulls at the waistband of her sweatpants and his knee forces her legs apart. His body weight makes it hard for her to breathe, but she hears something – muffled, albeit steady. "No... Stop... No...," her voice is distorted by pain and fear so that she almost doesn't recognize herself. The impact of his knee with the sensitive inner side of her thigh hurts like hell and the realization that the _if_ now is about to become a fact lets her almost panic. _Fight_, she urges herself, although deep down she knows that it is futile. He is too strong. All she does is prolong her agony. So she stops and lies completely still. This eventually stops him too. She looks at the ceiling, anywhere but him, whereas she can feel his eyes on her. "Don't do this, Ian," she whispers. "Don't hurt me... please..." She is beyond pride, beyond her usual self that doesn't beg. Emily knows that she is able to deal with whatever might happen. _I can take it._ For crying out loud – she can take almost everything! This though would irrevocably change her and her life already is a construction zone, no need to add anything else.

Suddenly Ian's weight is gone and she can breathe again. Emily sits up carefully, can't believe that he really stopped, the relief incomparable. _Thank you_, she prays silently to a God she doesn't truly believe in anymore, but who might have saved her anyway. _Thank you, thank you, thank you..._ The wave of relief slowly recedes and she detects Ian on the edge of the bed, gazing into space. Then he stands up and puts his sweater back on, picks up his jacket. When he turns around to face her his expression shows nothing but endless sadness.

"So it's over, love," he regrets what he did, but Ian Doyle doesn't apologize to anyone, not even to her and despite the fact that this is the man who just attempted to rape her, right in this moment she shares his sadness, wonders whether they ever did anything else than hurt each other. Then she moves and feels her body ache all over and the sadness is replaced by anger, disgust and the anxious awareness that what happened between them is nothing compared to what will happen next.

"What about my team?" Emily has to croak the words out, can't remember that she screamed in between, but why else would she be that hoarse?

"You know the rules," is all he says.

Yes, it's over! And she knows the rules.

Emily stands up and stifles a wince, because her body hurts all over and she has trouble standing upright. For this she has to stand though.

"Spare them," she pleads. "It's me you want."

"And it's you I can't have." Ian reaches out his hand and caresses her cheek and she is so spent that she flinches immediately, has no energy left to suppress it. "But I will never hurt you," he adds and despite the hypocrisy – because what else than hurt her did he do just moments ago – he means it. Let alone that there's no use in punishing when there's no-one left to suffer.

"You know the rules," he repeats. "24 hours so you can warn them." Then he turns around and is gone, leaving her behind completely defeated and broken.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **

A short update, I know! But I didn't want to leave you waiting for too long and work keeps me pretty busy currently so that I don't have that much time to write.

In this chapter Emily takes the first step to tell Hotch what happened and about the danger they are all in. There will be more in the next chapter and as you can imagine it won't be easy for them to deal with it.

The number of reviews has decreased a little and I'm not sure whether this is due to the summer break or a lack of interest in this story. In this respect a shout out to those of you who have been reviewing several chapters, especially greengirl82 who has reviewed every chapter so far. I really hope you all continue reading and reviewing so that I'm not left in the dark what you think.

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>Emily hasn't slept at all.<p>

Right after Doyle left, she started making phone calls. He granted her a reprieve to warn her team. 24 hours. Not much time to prepare for being killed or rather for protecting yourself against being an easy prey. As weird as it is, she believes that Doyle won't start his killing spree before the deadline has lapsed. But he didn't set a deadline for going after Declan. And he _will_ go after him. She is dead certain of it. Therefore Declan was her greatest concern in the first place and she called and woke up people at night until she reached one former contact who was willing to pull a few strings immediately. Emily doesn't know whether this means that Declan has to leave his surrogate family. It is one possible consequence – now that Doyle knows where to find him. Perhaps they can move the whole family though. It was difficult enough for Declan to adjust to the new living conditions. Yet this is off her hands and she just hopes that she somehow managed to save Declan a second time.

Dawn is breaking and she takes a quick shower and changes into her business clothes.

It is the first time she takes a look at herself in the mirror and she is slightly taken aback. When she bit Ian she obviously bit herself too, because her bottom lip is decorated with a wound and dried blood. In addition there is a bruise right under her left eye. even if she has no idea how she got this one – perhaps when she tried to get away from Ian and he pressed her with his body against the head section of the bed. Emily doesn't want to think about how Hotch will react to these two, although smallish, visible injuries in her face. Let alone the other ones that are hidden underneath her clothes.

She has thought about it over and over, considering her promise not to confess, not to let Hotch suffer and pay for her mistakes. This is no confession though. It is a necessary information to make him and the rest of the team take every precaution needed to protect themselves against Ian Doyle. Hotch is the Unit Chief and hence he has to know. There is no way around this.

Emily gets the file out of the safe. It contains the plain truth about her undercover operation and an update on the killings a year ago when Doyle took out her former team. It is an exact copy of the original file and it is not something an erstwhile Interpol Agent routinely is allowed to keep. Then again nothing about her undercover operation was routine.

She dreads talking to Hotch. The confession that was never meant to be.

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><p>When Emily knocks at Hotch's door, the sun hasn't entirely risen yet. 18 hours. That's the remaining time before Doyle starts his hunt. He left her apartment around midnight and somehow it's appropriate that the deadline ends at witching hour when the ghosts come out and the demons take over. Besides giving Hotch the file and causing hell to break lose, Emily doesn't have an actual plan, because she has no actual choice. The life of her team is at stake; there are not many options left, if at all.<p>

Hotch opens the door. He is an early bird, already half dressed and surprised as well as concerned to see her. Too early or too late calls or visits are often the bearer of bad news and this is no exception. His concern deepens when he detects her injuries, "You're hurt! What happened?" Just as he is about to grab her shoulders and pull her close, Emily holds the file out to him like a barrier. Body contact is the last thing she wants right now.

"I'm fine, Aaron!" she assures him, although her face looks like a battlefield and he doesn't believe her. "Please...," she stops him when he wants to usher her in. "We have no time. This is urgent. The team is in danger. Read the file. This man, Ian Doyle, will go on a man hunt for our team in 18 hours," she briefly pauses. "He attacked me tonight." Hotch's eyes darken at this. Again he tries to walk her in, but she already pulls away. "I'm fine!" she assures him again, like a mantra. "I'll meet you in your office in an hour and then we'll talk."

"Em... wait...," he grabs her arm when she turns around to leave. "I can't let you go like this. You're hurt and from what you're telling me, you might be in danger."

She could drown in those eyes – so worried and yet so strong. It is tempting to follow him inside, rest on his couch and take a nap while he reads the file, perhaps cooks her some tea first, takes care of her. But the scenario feels wrong, because once he finishes reading the file, he will look reproachfully at her and start to ask questions. And she doesn't want this to happen in their private surroundings. Not in her apartment, not in his. And she wants to give him some time and space to deal with what he is going to read alone first. He doesn't need her to watch each and every justified reaction.

Emily touches his face with her hands, brushes his lips, "I'm not in danger right now. Trust me. Your office. In an hour. I'll be there." He eases his grip on her and she leaves, well aware that his gaze follows her until she turns the corner and is out of his sight.

_Trust me. _He wouldn't have let her go otherwise. She is pretty sure though that he will lose some of his blind faith in her until this day is over and the realization hurts much more than her bruises ever could.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **

In this chapter Emily eventually has to face Hotch. This is a difficult situation for both of them and it was important to me to show her sorrow and regret on one hand and his shock and anguish on the other hand. I would be really happy if you let me know whether it worked out in a realistic way, because I haven't finally decided how to progress/end the story when it comes to their relationship.

As usual thanks a lot for the alerts and the reviews – especially to **greengirl82, HPforever-after** and **qwerty1313**. (**Mydnyte Hour** and **Nena Cero** – where r u? I really miss your feedback...).

And now have fun and enjoy! ;-)

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>An hour later Emily arrives at the bullpen as promised. It's still early and she has counted on the rest of the team coming in later, but Reid is already there.<p>

"Hey," she greets him and hopes that he doesn't notice her tension right away, let alone the injuries in her face. She's lucky. Obviously he has one of his headaches again. He looks like hell and probably has slept as little – or not at all – as she has, oblivious of all around him.

"Hey," he also greets her dizzily without looking at her when she places her jacket and her bag at her desk and walks upstairs to Hotch's office.

Emily runs on nothing but adrenaline and caffeine by now. Nonetheless she is aware how comfortable she feels here. This is her home. More than her apartment or Hotch's. Those might be her refuges, but this is the only place in the whole world that makes her feel at home. Her team is the only family she knows. And she has put them all in lethal danger.

Hotch sits at his desk, the file in front of him, shut. He looks down at it anyway.

"Come in and close the door," he says without looking at her. Like Reid but for completely different reasons. Somehow she has become invisible.

She closes the door and sits down while Hotch is still looking at the file on his desk and his fingers are playing with a pencil. No habit she has ever noticed before.

"So you took part in an Interpol undercover operation," he begins without any introduction, sticking to the facts and nothing but the facts. She has hoped that he would do exactly this, because this is the only way they will be able to do it and not completely fall apart. Rationalize. Analyze. Deduce. Act. "Ian Doyle was your... target," Hotch hesitates briefly and it takes no profiler to identify the reason for his hesitation. The file leaves no doubt how close she had to get to Doyle during her undercover operation to receive the needed information and the fact that the woman he loves slept with a terrorist for a profile is something he for sure wasn't prepared for and has to assimilate. "And he escaped from prison and killed your whole former team about a year ago as revenge."

It's frightening how the most difficult time of her life can be summarized in a few sentences. "Yes," Emily keeps her answer short, even if there is so much more to say.

"And he attacked you last night," Hotch looks up finally and for the split of a second she sees his distress and the fear for her in his eyes.

"Yes," a short answer again, but the quiver in her voice gives at least a little of Emily's inner turmoil away. _Last night._ It feels as if this happened weeks and not just hours ago. She really needs to sleep soon. Adrenaline and caffeine won't keep her on her feet forever and this is not the time to get sloppy.

Hotch's gaze intensifies. "You look like hell, if I may say so. Did you sleep?" his voice is softer now, after all she is the woman he loves. However he might have to reconsider that, because the woman in the file is someone he doesn't know. And yet he doesn't know everything.

"No, I didn't sleep," his soft voice sets up the need in her to explain, to make him understand. "And I couldn't tell you about... this before," she gestures towards the file. "It was classified, even after it was over." Emily sounds desperate, because she is. Regret is all she is able to feel. She wishes she could have told him about her undercover operation. She wishes she had told him that Doyle tracked her down and killed her former team about a year ago. She wishes she had never chosen to become Lauren again.

"I know you couldn't tell me about your classified undercover operation. It's not easy for me to handle this, but I fully understand it," Hotch says and somehow he couldn't have said anything worse, because how can he actually be understanding and comforting in the light of what she did?

Then his facial expression changes and she knows that the interrogation is about to start.

"I understand that you couldn't tell me about your undercover operation," he repeats. "And I also understand that you couldn't tell me that your former team was killed, because there obviously is a connection," Hotch chooses his words carefully, although she already knows what is coming. "But I don't understand why Doyle didn't also kill _you_ a year ago? He tracked all of them down and didn't find _you_?"

She had given that scenario indeed a second thought. Why shouldn't it be possible that Ian Doyle tracked everyone down except her a year ago? _Because Doyle isn't a second-class contract killer._ _That's why. Because Hotch would know this is a lie the moment you try to feed him with this implausible nonsense. _

"Doyle _did_ find me about a year ago," she admits. There is really nothing else left to say.

After briefly hesitating Hotch asks the obvious question, "Then why didn't he kill you like the others?"

Again Emily knew that this would come, but she didn't expect the pain to be so intense. It isn't that she doesn't want to tell him – she has accepted it as a necessity by now. Yet she simply can't.

"Hotch...," her voice is strained – a plea not to press her any further as well as an apology in advance, because they both know she has to tell him regardless.

"You said that he will go after our team in...," he checks his watch. "...17 hours. So I have to know. Every member of your former team is dead. Except you. Why?"

And so she tells him – how Doyle captured her, how he threatened her, how she decided to pay the prize to protect the team (and especially him, albeit she doesn't point this out explicitly; he knows it all the same though). At this Hotch breaks the pencil, he was still holding, right through the middle. His dark eyes burn like fire. There is nothing in them anymore that resembles even remotely professional detachment or composure. He opens his mouth to say something, but stands up instead, takes a few steps towards the window, turns around and sits back down. The fire in his eyes threatens to consume her.

"Vivian...," he finally states with a raspy unfamiliar voice. "You started meeting her... him... a year ago. This was your cover-up."

She just nods defeated and ashamed. He trusted her so much that she didn't even had to come up with a clever alibi.

Hotch closes his eyes and shuts her out. She suspects and fears what he does. He most likely thinks of all the times she allegedly met _Vivian_, knowing now that in actual fact she slept with Doyle every time. Perhaps he also tries to remember how she behaved afterwards, whether she behaved differently or not. The truth is that she didn't. Compartmentalizing works both ways – when you reveal bad things and when you commit them yourself. And she is a well-known master of compartmentalization.

"Even if you couldn't tell me anything else, you should have told me _that_," he says when he opens his eyes again and what she sees in them now scares her more than the relentless fire. Resignation. Disappointment. "I could have prevented it. You didn't have to sacrifice yourself."

Save that it wasn't exactly a sacrifice once her alter ego Lauren was back. But how could she possibly ever tell him that?

Hotch studies her expectantly and for the first time the apprehension starts to tingle that she maybe doesn't have to tell him, that he maybe read it between the lines in the file and put two and two together what might have happened when she met Doyle again.

"It is never easy to slip into your real self after an undercover operation. Especially not after one that took as long as yours. One more reason why you should have told me," he says and confirms by this her deepest worries. He has a strong suspicion that her alter ego Lauren still wielded power over her even after the undercover operation was over. His face hardens when he realizes that he guessed right, because she doesn't contradict him.

Emily's stomach tightens. The lack of sleep is steadily wearing her down. Her skin feels as if she is on fire. She knows the signs. She often felt like this being undercover, when she couldn't stand it any longer and wanted nothing but literally jump out of her skin.

"I don't know what to say," she squeezes out through gritted teeth. "You're right. I should have told you. I'm so sorry..." She is shivering now, freezing, even if the temperature in his office is comfortable, feeling the inner cold of her betrayal with full force.

"So why did Doyle attack you last night?" Hotch ignores her apology and addresses the next issue that needs to be clarified as his eyes become more and more distant. This time he is prepared for every possible verbal blow, every possible dreadful revelation. Once more he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. And he won't break down or at least admit that he is human. He wears his shield of strength and energy as if nothing can affect him, although the inner hurt caused by her deceit slowly but surely lacerates his heart.

Emily is not certain how much of their bond already has been destroyed, but she knows that lying now won't save it.

"Because I couldn't do it any longer," she whispers. "I just couldn't. Being with him when you and me...," her voice trails off.

"Why now?" Hotch doesn't give her time to pause. This really is an interrogation. "Why break it off now after all this time? And why didn't Doyle kill you this time?"

"I broke it off, because...," pictures of the last night flash uncontrolled through her mind and she takes a breath. "...because he wanted to change our arrangement. He wanted me to come with him... and Declan." Declan isn't in the file and Hotch is irritated until she explains it to him. How she saved him – from Doyle and the CIA. It's only in this moment that she realizes she just told Hotch that Ian Doyle wanted her to live with him and his child, to _raise_ his child, like a family. She could as well have hit him. Hotch knows now that this is much more for Doyle than revenge or a playground to act out his physical need, that Doyle loves Emily too – at least in his weird and wicked way. This is the reason he didn't kill her like the others. And as bad as physical deceit is, it's the emotional betrayal that usually excludes the possibility that the relationship survives.

Hotch's facial expression hasn't changed. Nonetheless Emily is afraid that this revelation might have ultimately damaged them beyond repair. His inertia scares her to death and she is on her feet in an instant, hands on his desk, leaning towards him.

"Aaron... Hotch... listen to me, please...," she talks fast, knowing that this could be her last chance to convince him, to make him listen before his final judgement. They are falling, there is no solid ground anymore beneath their feet, and she has to stop the fall before they hit the bottom. "I did some terrible things and I lied to you, God, yes, I did and I can't even begin to tell you how much I regret it. But don't believe for a second that what happened between me and Doyle is in any way similar to what we have. It never was. And I never even considered going with him. _Never_. But I made the mistake of believing that I might be able to settle this without having to involve or endanger you and the team. That's why I didn't tell you until the bitter end, until now."

Emily holds her breath, waiting for his response, for any kind of reaction. She knows that part of him understands why she did this on her own. They all try to keep the danger away from each other, handle things on their own if need be. That's why they rely so much on each other. When Hotch eventually speaks, it is not what she expected or hoped for, but at least he still talks to her and this alone is some kind of a victory. Maybe not all is lost yet.

"What exactly did Doyle do to you last night?" he gestures towards her face and her wrists. When she stood up the sleeve of her shirt was slightly rucked up and exposed the bruises on her wrists. Hotch knows what such kind of injuries usually imply and his face is frozen like a mask. He doesn't know how much longer he can muster up the amount of strength it takes not to snap.

Suddenly there's a knock and JJ sticks her head in at the door.

"We've got a...," she stops when she notices the tense atmosphere and the look on Hotch's face.

"Not now," he says without looking at her and she closes the door with a puzzled expression. This never happened before.

Emily sits back down, feeling a little wobbly on her legs after her pleading outburst. Then she realizes that Hotch still stares at her wrists, even if they are already covered again by her shirt, remembers his question and his edgy voice. He is barely keeping himself together.

_What did Doyle do to you? _She lets the events of the last evening replay in her mind's eye. She has done this so often by now that she is almost uncertain what really happened and what her fatigue might have added or removed. Almost.

"I missed the chance to shoot him and we got into a fight." That sums it up – in a way at least.

Hotch studies her, well aware that she wouldn't be here, if Doyle had put some real effort into "fighting" with her. And there's still the unanswered question what kind of fight required Doyle to hold her down by her wrists. Emily knows that she has to tell him. The uncertainty will kill him otherwise.

"I have some pretty bad bruises and at some point I thought he would... but he didn't do it, couldn't go through with it," she gasps for air, has to choke down a sob, because this really was one of the worst moments in her life.

On the surface Hotch is seemingly unmoved. What he feels inwardly is a completely different story though. On any other day he would never just sit there and listen to her telling him how she almost got raped without even blinking.

Emily compartmentalizes well, but Hotch is the master of facing people down. His stare is notorious. And as usual it gives nothing away, even if he feels as if someone pulled his intestines out and doused them with acid. He also is the master of few but effective words during an interrogation and he falls back on his usual technique, prolonging the silence when Emily longs to know whether there is the slightest chance that he might be able to forgive her.

"Say something, please," she urges, desperation in her voice. That's what guilt does. It turns born fighters into beggars. "What about us? Are we..."

"Who will he go after first?" Hotch interrupts her. He can't answer to her question right now and no matter how painful this is for both of them, the clock is ticking. As the Unit Chief he has to arrange that they take every feasible precaution to make sure nobody gets killed. Well, except Ian Doyle that is.

In an instant she understands what he means and accepts that he went off on a tangent. He is the Unit Chief after all and has to think and act accordingly. "I don't know who he will go after first," Emily says and has apparently given this more than one thought. "But I know who he will go after last – you. For obvious reasons." Doyle would delay and relish her agony that she is about to lose Aaron by killing the other members of the team first. "Morgan second to last, because we are close friends. Before that I can't tell who he would choose in which order. I am close to all of them in a way. And even if I can't be certain, at the moment I believe that he is not going to kill me. He will spare me to let me experience the anguish to be left behind alone." It is surreal that she sits here and talks about a death list, sorting the names of her friends, giving them an order based on the fact that those of them will be killed first she confides in least.

Hotch grabs the file, "I will set up a meeting. We have to take every possible precaution." Emily nods. The only good thing about this is that Doyle doesn't go after family members. It all starts and ends with the team.

He stands up, then hesitates and she realizes that he doesn't want to go around his desk, because that will lead to coming close to her. There is no way to avoid it though. Slowly he walks around his desk and Emily stands up too. Her body and soul ache to be touched by him, held by him. She knows it is selfish and weak, but she just can't help it. She also knows that he most likely feels the same, but also can't help _not_ embracing her. Not now.

When Hotch stands next to her at last, he reaches out and takes her hand. His thumb brushes her bruised wrist. Emily exhales sharply with relief. At least he still cares for her. She closes her eyes to stop the tears from falling. When she opens her eyes again, his touch lingers and he studies her features. All of a sudden the fear to lose him is so overwhelming that she can't hold back the words. "I hope that I didn't screw it all up. And I hope you don't make any hasty decisions. I would do anything to..."

"Does it still hurt?" he interrupts her again and she realizes that nothing she says or does will make a difference. The course is already set by what she did and he has his own agenda to sort things out. His question irritates her at first, because she doesn't know what he is referring to. Her bruises? Her inner anguish? But in the end it doesn't matter. The answer is always the same.

"Yes," she breathes.

There is a slight change in his eyes and a cold shiver runs down her spine when she remembers where she saw that look recently. Ian Doyle looked at her like this right before he attacked her. It is the look of someone who is hurt so deeply that only the pain of the person who caused the hurt can make it go away or at least ease the pain. An eye for an eye. Therefore his remark fits, although it is completely unlike him.

"Good," he hisses before he passes her by and leaves the room, all but shoving her out of the way. _An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. _Emily can only hope that this is not what will happen to them.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

A short update. 1000 words is my self-imposed absolute minimum for a chapter and I'm curious whether you prefer more frequent updates with shorter chapters or less frequent updates with longer chapters. (Provided that the content can be split up. Otherwise it doesn't matter how short or long – it has to be one piece.) Drop me a line to let me know your preferences or include a hint in your review if you like.

As you already have noticed in the last chapter JJ is still with the team. Also there is no Seaver – not because I don't like her character, but simply because I haven't seen enough of her on screen to write about her.

The second half of this chapter describes how the team reacts to the revelation about Emily and Doyle. Originally I didn't intend to make the whole team part of the story or show their reactions, but since some of you seem to be really looking forward to this (according to your reviews and the exchange of PM in between) – here it is, albeit short, but that's the compromise. ;-)

You know the drill – thank you so much for your alerts (the number is still steadily rising; I take this as a good sign) and your reviews (please don't ever stop reviewing; these are my lifeline!). Everyone of you is the reason I continue with the story.

So R&R please! :-))

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>It is a logistic nightmare to protect seven people at once.<p>

Hotch had a quick urgency meeting with Strauss to clear the budget. The next two weeks each member of the team will have personal protection plus enhanced police presence in front of their homes. Will it be enough? He hopes so. Doyle is a dangerous enemy, eager for revenge, and should not be underestimated. He escaped from a high security prison. There is an unsettling possibility that he will evade the protective measures and get at one of them no matter how many precautions they take. After the two weeks there will be fewer precautionary measures due to budget cutbacks. Of course they all could go into hiding, live in a safe house until Doyle is caught, but that would effectively mean quitting their jobs, not working on cases and no-one wants to do that.

Right now Emily takes a nap on the couch in his office. He insisted on it after they had finished informing the team. It's weird how he on one hand can barely look at her, let alone touch her, and on the other hand needs to make sure that she is all right – at least as far as possible. Even if she most likely doesn't actually sleep and stares at the ceiling instead. Hotch is pretty sure that this is the prospect of his upcoming nights. He can't imagine closing his eyes and getting some peace after everything he learned today.

She lays on his couch and stares at the ceiling. Emily is supposed to take a nap. It was as good as an order. Hotch knew she needed a break and wouldn't allow her to go home for security reasons. So she ended up here in his office. She wants to sleep, really. Her eyes burn with exhaustion and she can't think straight. But every time she closes her eyes she sees their faces. The faces of her friends and colleagues when Hotch told them about Doyle. Well, to be exact – about Doyle and her.

They had different reactions, of course. After all they are completely different characters. But one question was written all over their faces when they looked furtively at her in between – _who are you_?

She doesn't need to worry about Rossi, Mr. "I've seen it all". For a brief moment his rugged features had slipped and his usual _been there done that_ routine hadn't been effective. He never had been undercover and he could only imagine how difficult it all must have been for her. Then his composure was back again. She knows she can count on Dave. He will never pass judgement on her, never did.

Emily also doesn't need to worry about Garcia. The confused look on her face listening to Hotch's "she was a spy" story featuring Emily Prentiss formerly known as Lauren Reynolds would have been funny, wouldn't it all be so sad. Penelope didn't say a word, but somehow Emily knows that she has her dark secrets too. Welcome to the club! Apart from this Garcia probably is the most innocent and sweet gal in the world and Emily is certain that she would still clasp her in her arms anytime to assure her that everything will be all right.

JJ, Reid and Morgan though won't forgive her that easily for not confiding in them earlier.

Perhaps JJ will talk to her about it in private. Nonetheless there is also the possibility that she won't address it at all unless Emily does so. Most likely she is angrier than she shows and how could Emily hold it against her? She has a family, a small child and even if it isn't Doyle's trademark to go after the families, there is always the risk that he could change this at any moment. Emily knows though that sooner or later JJ will get this out of her system. Friendship is a valuable asset to all of them and she won't throw theirs away.

Emily assumes that Reid will more or less handle it the same way as JJ. He exchanged glances with her during the meeting in mutual hurt and understanding. His history with abandonment issues probably means that he is already hurt the most, because she was his confident and now he found out that it was a one way street and that she didn't confide in him the same way. It will take time to reach the level of trust they had before.

Morgan... He is _so_ angry – Emily could feel the rage in every move he stifled, every word he didn't say, every look he didn't share with her anymore. He is her partner, her best friend and his anguish of her betrayal most likely is almost as excruciating as Hotch's. Frankly she doesn't know yet how to fix this and just clings to the hope that she will be able to find a way one day.

Hotch told the team about her undercover assignment and how close she had to get to Doyle to receive the needed information. He told them about Doyle's killing spree a year ago and about the danger they are all in. He _didn't_ tell them about her disastrous affair with Doyle after the undercover assignment and Emily is pretty sure that he also didn't tell Strauss. It is no mandatory information since the fatal story – Doyle loves Lauren and wants her back – is the same with or without it. Considering that they are profilers, Hotch however is deliberately withholding information that could be useful in catching Doyle and Emily briefly pondered during the meeting to tell the others regardless of his decision not to do so. She doesn't know whether Hotch decided not to tell anyone about it to spare her or himself the humiliation. Whether or not, in the end she didn't tell them either. She feels like a traitor already and can handle one more secret. Nevertheless Emily swears to herself to tell them the moment it will be necessary to prevent further damage. And she is dead certain that Hotch inwardly has made the same deal, imminent humiliation aside.

Eventually Emily's eyelids flutter and she closes her eyes despite the mess of thoughts that flashes through her mind. She is beyond tired, beyond anything she ever felt before. The last thought before she drifts into sleep is that her bruises can never hurt so much as Hotch's last word to her in his office. _Good,_ he said when she had told him that her bruises hurt. She never would have thought that the man she loves wants her to suffer. But at the same time she knows why he said it and even understands his motives. And although she doesn't deserve the injuries Doyle inflicted on her in a strict sense, she wants to share Hotch's pain, if there is the slightest chance that she can ease it hereby. _Forgive me father, for I have sinned... _Even if religion rather is a stranger to her these days, the prayer of her childhood crosses her mind, her catholic upbringing catching up with her at the weirdest times, and she really hopes that forgiveness is waiting for her sometime in the future.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**

This is a very quick update – at least by my standards. But this chapter practically wrote itself and so there is no reason to make you wait any longer. ;-)

The chapter turned out darker than I intended. "Lauren" still hasn't let go completely of Emily (or vice versa as some of you pointed out) and this is mentioned in between. Also I felt/feel the need to explore Hotch's darker emotional side. Not too much, I want to stay in character. But I think that his usually very in control character has this other side and that it comes out when he is pushed over the edge. I actually think that this might help H/P to deal with what happened, because the more he accepts his darker side the better he might be able to understand the whole "Lauren" scenario and (perhaps?) forgive Emily (who knows... at least I don't at this point and even if I did I never would spill the spoiler). I'm rambling and leaping ahead though. (There will be more "dark Hotch" in the next chapter, I guess.) Just want to let you know what's crossing my mind and why the story progresses like it does.

So what do you think?

Thank you so much for your alerts, reviews and the ideas we exchanged via PM – especially thanks a bunch to **greengirl82, HPforever-after, mia29, Nena Cero, **and** sarweber22**. You rock!

I will be pretty committed within the next days and over the weekend so most likely there won't be another update until sometime next week. Yeah, I know, sorry, I'll do my best to update as soon as I can. But just that you know what to expect. So at least more than enough time to read and review. ;-))

**Disclaimer: ****No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>Emily wakes up to the muffled murmur outside of Hotch's office. It is a rainy day with grey skies and the light has become dim by now. She was supposed to take a short nap and must have slept at least four or five hours instead since their meeting ended at noon.<p>

She sits up with a jerk suddenly aware that Doyle's deadline is about to expire real soon now. _Who will die first?_ Emily presses the balls of her hands against her eyes to eliminate those thoughts. _No-one will die._

When she opens the door they are all in the bullpen, even Garcia, discussing something. Well, there is a lot to discuss when you are the target of a dangerous criminal craving for revenge. Only Hotch isn't with them and the realization stings her, causes worry about his safety in an instant. They interrupt their discussion to look at her. Funny how she was their friend yesterday and has turned into an outsider. Who will she be tomorrow? A complete stranger? At least there are slight smiles of reassurance from Rossi and Garcia. JJ and Reid look away; they don't know how to deal with her just yet. Morgan challengingly stares at her.

"Hey," the voice startles her and the moment she turns around to see Hotch standing behind her Emily sees something in Morgan's face when he notices her unfamiliar and almost jumpy reaction. He is afraid. And even more so for her sake than for himself. Morgan might be angry with her, but his amicable feelings are still there. He still cares for her.

Emily looks at Hotch questioningly and he explains curtly that he had another meeting with Strauss. This is a precarious situation after all.

Then he walks down to the others and she follows like the unasked-for fifth wheel. Calm and composed he informs them that personal protection has been set up. During the next two weeks two bodyguards will accompany each of them whenever they leave the building. No-one asks how they will handle the threat afterwards in case they won't be able to catch Doyle that soon.

"And now let's call it a day. See you tomorrow and be extremely careful," Hotch ends their informal meeting to Emily's surprise. She would have expected him to stay all night. He turns around to leave and although he doesn't look at her directly his next words are meant for her. "You stay with me tonight."

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><p>Hotch has never dealt with their relationship so openly before. Of course everyone at the BAU is well aware that they are a couple, but during working hours it wouldn't occur to anybody who doesn't know. She is part of the team. He is the supervisor. And that's how it works for all of them. Therefore his announcement that he wants her to stay with him tonight usually would have caused some teasing comments at least from Morgan or Garcia. Today as it was no-one said a word and Emily didn't argue. Despite what happened she would have preferred to spend the night alone at her apartment. If Hotch wants it this way, it's ok for her though and this has nothing to do with submissively obeying him. But the fact that he articulated his need regardless of his habit to keep up the professional facade was more than enough for her to agree.<p>

They are in his SUV, followed by their bodyguards in two other dark cars that scream personal protection. The silence that normally is so comfortable between them, is awkward now. Nevertheless none of them speaks a word on the way to his apartment. When they arrive, their watchdogs check the surroundings first, before they're even allowed to get out of the car. No Doyle in sight; then again the deadline hasn't expired yet.

Their personal security mounts outside of Hotch's apartment. Emily feels uneasy inside, although she can't count the times she has been here before. He still doesn't talk to her, doesn't look at her and she wonders why he wants her to be here. She gets herself a glass of water do do something besides being ignored, even if she craves for a drink. But it would be too risky to have alcohol in her blood should something happen tonight.

The apartment is quiet. Hotch's son Jack visits, no, _has to visit_ relatives until this is over – that much Emily knows and feels another sting of sorrow because of the discomfort all these people she cares about have to go through. He's a child for God's sake and should be allowed to stay with his father. _Like Declan..._ her inner voice taunts her and she _really_ wants a drink right now, but still resists. Doyle was a good father despite the fact that he was and is a criminal, a man with a twisted moral. She is distinctly aware of the irony that somehow she managed to separate both fathers from their sons – Hotch from Jack and Doyle from Declan. Damn, she has to stop thinking about Ian! _You're not allowed in here_, she tries to shut him off her thoughts. This is Hotch's apartment after all.

She is ambling through the rooms wondering what to do next and where the hell Hotch has gone when he comes out of the guest room. He stops when he sees her and his eyes are tired. "The spare bed has clean sheets on it," he says as if she never slept here before, as if she doesn't sleep next to him in his bedroom when she's here.

"Why do you even want me to be here?" she asks slightly annoyed. Emily understands why he doesn't want her in his bed tonight. She wouldn't want him around either would it be vice versa. Thus she doesn't understand why he wouldn't just let her leave to spend the night in her own bed at her apartment.

Anger flares in his eyes and he obviously thinks twice whether to share his thoughts with her or not. "Love is no choice," he eventually says. "Just because I'm angry with you doesn't mean I don't love you anymore and I can't stand the thought that you're in your apartment alone while... _he _is still out there." The last words are a dangerous growl. Oh yes, he _definitely_ is angry with her!

"But you also can't stand the thought that I'm sleeping next to you in your bed," Emily's soft and steady voice is a sharp contrast to his jerky one.

"Yes," Hotch admits and even if his words hurt her, Emily is glad that he declares his anger and does not swallow it down to choke with rage. The admission that he still loves her is unexpected, although he sounded as if he rather not love her anymore. Time will have to tell. She has no illusions about this.

"I have some clothes in your wardrobe that I will get later after I took a shower," Emily walks into the guest room and signals him hereby her consent that she will stay. She tried to tell him before in his office that she would do anything to save their relationship and this is far from anything.

"Ok," he nods, turns around to leave her alone, then turns back and comes a few steps closer so that he is in the room with her. It is a tiny room with not much space left so that they stand next to each other close beside the spare bed. They are accustomed to each others physical presence and yet she is hyperaware of every inch of his body. All the more so when she hears his words.

"Undress," he whispers and his haunted look searches her eyes.

She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but this leaves her speechless. He can't be serious.

When he notices her reaction, Hotch shakes his head almost impatiently. "That's not what I mean," he says, reading her mind. "I need to see the rest of your bruises. I have to...," he lets the sentence dangle in the air unfinished and somehow this is adequate. There is unfinished business between them and he just has to. She understands that. She'd do anything...

However he won't make it easy for her. Hotch doesn't show the slightest inclination to give her more room to move, leaving her no other choice but to undress standing right next to him, within his reach.

Of course he watched her undress before – as part of a seduction or simply as the man she shares her life with. All the same this is completely different. Emily senses his stare on her bare skin when she pulls the shirt over her head and lets it drop on the ground, followed by her shoes, stockings and pants. Hotch doesn't say a word, just looks at her and her movements become increasingly unconfident and clumsy. She is embarrassed and angry with herself that she feels that way. No matter how, eventually she stands in front of him only in her bra and briefs. Most of the bruises are not that bad. There are a few on her back and on her chest. She had much worse injuries in the line of duty. The bruises on her wrists and legs though are pretty nasty. He already saw the ones on her wrists, but not the ones on her legs and his eyes widen when he discovers them. It's not only the injury, it's the story behind it, the knowledge that Doyle grabbed her wrists brutally, tried to force her legs apart. Hotch clenches his teeth, his jaw a distinctive razor-sharp line in his face. He still doesn't speak, his eyes jumping back and forth between the bruises on her legs and her face as if he is not able to connect the components, as if the realization that she has these bruises on her body brings him down to earth and it's too much to take.

Only now Emily notices that there is a huge mirror in the room. Irony obviously is becoming her best friend. First the similarity between Hotch and Doyle – both fathers separated from their sons – and now this. It's eerie. There also was a huge mirror in the room when she met Ian for the last time and she is reminded of the indisputable very voluptuous experience of Ian touching her in front of the mirror.

Hotch catches her gaze and – oblivious to her memories – turns towards the mirror. In spite of herself Emily does the same – and is flooded with even more memories. She stands partly next to Hotch partly in front of him, looking directly in the mirror and the images overlap. Aaron. Ian. Lauren. Herself. She knows that this is a sick way of her body desperately searching for a way to let go, but right now she wants Hotch to do the same Ian did to her. Perhaps now that she let Lauren go, she is hoping to find Doyle in Hotch. Not everything is reprehensible when it comes to Doyle. And not everything is flawless when it comes to Hotch. Shades of grey. Damn, she is losing it! Emily closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. _Not Now!_ _Block it out! _

When Hotch's hands carefully touch her shoulders, she almost jumps up and her eyes fly open. She hasn't expected that.

"Look at you," he says quietly, sympathy in his voice, misinterpreting her reaction as disgust at her oppressed body and what happened last night. "What he has done to you." No sympathy this time, only resentment and rage. It's a safe bet that he hates Ian Doyle. Probably as much as he never has hated anybody except Foyet.

Just when Emily starts to freeze and decides that it is enough, that she will get dressed again or take a long hot shower, Hotch increases the pressure of his touch, his hands still holding her shoulders. It is the only contact with her he allows himself. He closes his eyes. "When was the last time you...," he pauses and seems to contemplate briefly not to finish the sentence, even if she already knows what he is going to ask and why this is so hard for him. "...the last time you were with him? Besides last night."

Before she can answer, his hands drop from her shoulders. He opens his eyes again and prepares to leave the room. "Forget it. Forget that I asked," his voice is almost inaudible.

In a flash Emily turns around and grabs his arm. She is aware that physical contact is a sensitive issue for him momentarily, but she can't let him go like that. For once he doesn't hide behind a false mask of indifference. He looks so lost and defeated that the sting of sorrow – a good friend of hers these days – is much sharper than before. Yet she also feels a dark thrill. If he didn't love her that much, then he wouldn't be so affected by it all. She has this power over him. _Go away, Lauren_, Emily thinks bitterly. _This isn't Ian. You don't have to manipulate him._

"Several weeks ago," she finally answers his question. Her last meeting with Vivian. She doesn't have to add this. He knows.

Hotch nods and for a brief moment Emily sees the darkness in his eyes. _Shades of grey._ Aaron Hotchner is no Ian Doyle. He doesn't act upon his dark desires. But right now there is an impulsive uncontrollable rage trapped within him. He only felt remotely similar to this once in his life before – when Foyet threatened his family and eventually carried out the threat. At some point there is no more reason, there is only rage. Aaron Hotchner is afraid that he might be soon on the verge of losing it completely.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**

Here it is – the next chapter. It's fairly long since most of you appreciate longer chapters. Sorry that it took me so long to update, but I've been extremely busy lately. This chapter mostly deals with the team as well as H/P coping with what happened between Emily and Doyle and the threat to their lives. Rating due to some bad language and minor sexual situations. From the next chapter on there will be more action, because we're getting closer to the finale. Yay! I know that this is content wise no "easy story" to read. So I want to reward my loyal readers and reviewers and incorporate your suggestions in the story wherever possible (perhaps slightly modified to make it fit, but still). Meaning...

**mia29:** You said it would be interesting to see the reactions of the team when they learn the "whole truth" about what happened between Emily and Doyle. It will start (in a way) in this chapter and will be continued in the next chapters.

**HPforever-after:** You're idea of "who Doyle will go after first" – not yet in this chapter, but find out in the next chapter whether you're right. ;-)

**greengirl82: **You'd like a scene in which Emily gives herself up to Doyle to protect the team. I have some ideas how this might fit in. Stay tuned...

**Love you all for reading and reviewing** – and that goes of course also for **Nena Cero, sarweber22 and Mydnyte Houre**. It's interesting that the number of the story alerts still goes up. So please don't stop with whatever you do (reading, reviewing, favoring) – I need all of you to stick with me and the story. Thanks a bunch!

**Disclaimer: ****No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>Two weeks passed by and nothing happened. No threat, no attack, no nothing.<p>

Hotch had several harsh arguments with Strauss. He wanted her to prolong the personal protection that she had approved for a limited period of two weeks. In the end the budget cutbacks won. No more personal protection. The alert stage at the BAU had been raised and the police would continue to check their home addresses from time to time. But that was it. Minimum security, maximum risk.

They didn't fail to find Doyle; they simply aren't allowed to. Right after Strauss had approved the security measures, she informed Interpol and now it is off their hands. Of course there is an unauthorized investigation going on at the BAU. However this investigation consists mainly of the information Emily has to offer (the addresses where she met Doyle, his phone numbers) and Garcia's hacking skills. Emily knows Penelope has put one and one together by now and has come to the conclusion that Hotch only told the team half the story, that the story didn't end with Doyle killing her former team a year ago, that she met him during the past months and his recent attack wasn't a new threat but an escalation. Checking out Doyle's phone numbers, she saw Emily's number appear on a regular basis and Emily's detailed knowledge of addresses and dates, where Doyle had stayed, completed the puzzle. Garcia didn't say anything though. She just did the research. Only once, when she came to tell Hotch that she had – again – ended up empty-handed, she touched Emily's shoulder sympathetically in passing. And when Emily looked at her, she found nothing but painful understanding in her eyes.

Emily had gratefully answered with a nod and then realized that Rossi had seen it. Always the master of making up his mind secretly, he had waited until he caught her on her own.

"So... you seem to know a lot about Doyle's habits during the last year, a lot for Garcia to check out." It was a statement, not a question and she met his eyes warily.

"I won't pass judgement on you, you know that," Dave reassured her. "And after all the BAU doesn't investigate Ian Doyle, we all know that." No, of course not. At least that was the official version. The smirk in his eyes, that can be smug at times, was nothing but friendly.

Emily was relieved on one hand and could have slapped herself on the other hand. How could she expect to be surrounded by profilers without having her cover blown?

So Rossi knows too. It's a chain reaction. Two done, three more to go.

Mercifully there are enough serial killers on the loose to keep them busy. The night in Hotch's apartment was the only night during the last two weeks they spent at home. The rest of the time they were here and there, always in the line of duty, saving everybody but themselves. Hotch and Emily took separate rooms at the hotels. It was better that way. Some space while still near to each other.

The team noticed, but no-one mentioned it. The silence, when there was nothing to say about their current case, spoke volumes though. Something was off. There was little to no banter or laughter between them. They have lost their balance.

* * *

><p>The jet recently landed. They are back. Just in time for the first day without personal security. Welcome to hell!<p>

Despite the fact that there is no longer personal protection, they are all eager to head home. Perhaps a side effect of their missing balance. Spending time together is more difficult these days than spending time alone. Usually it's vice versa.

Emily walks to her car. Hotch has somehow disappeared. He didn't even say goodbye. She is not sure, why it still bothers her. He behaved like this during the last two weeks. The first awkward night at his apartment was the most attention she has gotten from him. After that he was all business, setting limits, especially to her.

Sometimes she wonders whether he already broke up with her and only forgot to tell her about it. On some days it hurts like hell when thoughts like this flash through her mind and on some days she feels nothing at all, just a welcome numbness as if fate finally has decided about her punishment.

Emily knows that she should be much more aware of her surroundings. Doyle is out there somewhere, even if he seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth. But she knows that he is still there, probably watches her right now. It doesn't scare her. Only the thought of something happening to her colleagues and friends gives her the well known sting of fear. Instinctively she looks around and detects JJ, also on her way to her car. JJ and Henry, Hotch and Jack, Ian and Declan – it always hurts her the most when children are involved and suddenly she feels the urge to tell JJ how awfully sorry she is.

"JJ," she approaches her askance and addresses her from a distance. Nevertheless JJ's hand is on her holster in an instant. They are all highly strung these days.

"It's me," Emily raises her hand and JJ relaxes and puts her bag in the car. She stands with her back to Emily and for a brief moment Emily senses her inner fight whether to turn around and talk to her or just to drive away. Eventually she turns around.

"I just wanted to tell you how bad I feel that you all have to go through so much trouble because of me," Emily says. "Especially you and Hotch, because you have kids and... you know... it shouldn't be that way. There should only be happiness waiting for you when you come back from a disturbing case."

JJ nods and lowers her head. When she looks up again, there could be tears shimmering in her eyes, but then it could just be the dim light of the evening.

"There's no-one waiting for me at home," JJ answers sadly. "Will and Henry are some place safe. No happiness for none of us at the moment, I guess."

Emily doesn't know what to respond to this. Sometimes no excuse in the world can ever be enough – no matter how heartfelt.

"It's not your fault, Emily," JJ's voice is softer now. "I know that. _We all _know that. Don't make it even harder for yourself and us."

This time Emily does know what to respond. She wants to tell JJ everything to make her realize that it _is_ her fault, that she _is_ to blame. But when she opens her mouth to speak, JJ interrupts her, "Em.. I _know_. Penelope told me."

The chain reaction. Another link in the chain has fallen into line. Three down, two more to go. Except Hotch. He's not part of the chain reaction. He's the clasp of their chain and if they don't manage to solve their personal problems, they won't be able to function as a team again.

"JJ, I don't know what to say," Emily shakes her head. She didn't expect that. How can they all forgive her so easily? And why are they still so uncomfortable around each other then?

"You don't have to say or explain anything," JJ's voice sounds tired now and suddenly Emily realizes – this isn't forgiveness. They are simply accepting her the way she is, all her flaws, all the mistakes she made. They might not know everything, but they know that she was in close contact with Ian Doyle during the last year and they are not stupid, the conclusion being obvious. Why she is the only one Doyle didn't kill. What would have been the price for survival. So they could have decided to just dump her and they didn't. This is what friendship is about. A gift so rare in her life that she didn't recognize it although it was right under her nose. JJ confirms it with her next words, "That's called friendship. Right now we are all uncomfortable around each other, because you are uncomfortable around us."

The missing balance. She is the link between them to get their balance back.

* * *

><p>Emily didn't drive home straightaway. She was too wired after her encounter with JJ and made a stop at the gym first. It's late in the evening when she finally arrives at her apartment block. The elevator doors close behind her with a soft noise; her footsteps are fast and quiet on the floor. Emily fumbles around with her keys just when a figure comes round the corner. She drops her bag and reaches for her gun when she recognizes the face – it's Hotch.<p>

"You would be dead by now," he says as a greeting and then repeats her earlier thoughts. "You should be much more aware of your surroundings." Yes, she should be. Then again they both know that she is not Ian Doyle's primary target.

She suppresses the first words that come to her mind – what the hell he is doing here, why he feels the freaking need to scare her, why he left without a word in the first place. She understands his hurt and at the same time is tired of putting her feelings on the back burner. JJ's words triggered something in her. She knows now that she can maybe fix this. That she has to stop punishing herself, because otherwise the team will never be able to find their way back to each other again. That apologies are necessary, but that she doesn't have to beat herself up for what happened for the rest of her life. Emily still has to deal with Reid and Morgan. Yet she is much more confident that she will work it out – even with them – than she was yesterday.

"You showered," Hotch notes out of the blue, when she doesn't react, and his words catch her off-guard. She showered in the gym after the workout. The way he says it sounds strange though. As if... Blazing fury shoots through her body.

"You don't really think I met him again!" Emily hisses. She showered to wash off her sweat and not the scent of another man. _Can you hold it against him_, her inner voice whispers. _You did it many times before. Sneaked home to wash off Ian Doyle's scent. _Emily knows that she has to deal with Hotch sometime. She might find a way to work it out with the rest of the team, but to work it out with him is a completely different story. He distanced himself from her and as a result of this she distanced herself from him too. And if it's up to her, she won't deal with him tonight. She is just too tired. But obviously he is not.

Hotch steps closer and she smells his after shave and something else – alcohol.

"Did you?" he is so close now that she can smell the alcohol not only on him but also in his breath. Emily can't remember ever having seen him drunk. Sometimes he indulges in the relaxing effect of a drink after the work of the day is done. But he is no party-goer. Only one occasion he joined the team to have some fun in a bar and this was back in the days when Foyet hadn't destroyed his life yet. So Hotch doesn't drink for fun these days anymore; he most likely drank to ease the pain.

Nevertheless Emily feels too jaded to ease his pain tonight. Therefore she just shakes her head in an exhausted negation that, no, she didn't meet Doyle again, let alone sleep with him, and forces her key in the lock with the intention to slam the door in Hotch's face should he insist on his assumption.

He doesn't. Instead he leans against her softly from behind. And the contact of their bodies is enough to send a chill down her spine. He hasn't touched her since that night in his apartment.

"Let me come in," he breathes.

No matter how tired she is – slamming the door in his face is no option. He is drunk and in a weird mood that might be plain horniness, mixed with anger and jealousy, but could be so much more. She opens the door and he follows her inside.

While Emily is unpacking her bag, Hotch paces across her apartment. Pacing is never good. The last time a man paced in her presence, Ian told her that he loved her and look what that did to her.

"Aaron, please stop, you're making me dizzy," she eventually complains when he keeps walking around. It is the first time she calls him Aaron again. There was no situation during the last two weeks in which it would have been appropriate to use his forename. Or perhaps she just didn't feel comfortable enough to do it.

Hotch stops dead in his tracks right in front of her. Emily has pulled off her shoes and only wears her jeans and a shirt, whereas he hasn't even doffed his coat. He reaches out and caresses her cheek, traces her jawline with his fingers. The soft tingling sensation lets her skin prickle. He is not only here to touch though, but also to talk.

"One of the reasons I fell in _love_ with you...," he says almost dreamily and – although she still can smell the alcohol – he doesn't sound drunk, doesn't slur. "...is your ability to shed light even on the darkest things." She remembers. She was that way. In times past. Before Doyle returned. "But one of the reasons I am _drawn_ to you...," he continues. "...is your ability to shut out the light so that there is only darkness left. This is what makes you such a good profiler. You're not afraid of the dark."

He takes her hand and places in on his chest. When he puts more pressure on it so that she feels the scars under his shirt – scars Foyet inflicted on him with his knife – she fully understands what he is trying to tell her. Hotch is drawn to her dark side, because it mirrors his own.

Emily always knew that Hotch is not only the composed perfect alpha male, that there is more to him than that. What she didn't realize until now though is how much they are alike. They both show the world a face of composure and control. And they both need to be in control. But there's something else underneath the surface. Emily has been aware of it all along, talks about it to her colleagues from time to time, because it really worries her. How easily they are able to think like the criminals they hunt. How disturbing it is that certain events can change people irrevocably, turn a respectable citizen into a monster past all recognition. She has the ability to _think like them;_ they all have it. She just wasn't aware how profound Hotch's understanding is, that he might actually – like her – not only be able to think like them but act upon it.

They haven't moved. Her hand is still on his chest and he holds it there in place, studying her face.

"I am angry, I am jealous, I am hurt," he confesses and each word makes her feel guiltier. "And I needed time to distance myself, to solve things out." Well, she noticed that. "But in spite of it all I never stopped loving you, never stopped wanting you." There is a slight shift in his body language as well as in his eyes. He tenses up, his eyes two dark coals - a torrid heat that threatens to burn her. Suddenly Emily is not sure whether she is ready to hear what he is about to say to her. _Certain events can change people irrevocably._

"You probably think you have to decide," Hotch says softly. "You think you have to bury the side of you that allowed you to become Lauren, because she is no good. And in a way this is true. But these character traits are a part of you and you can't bury a part of yourself. Believe me, I tried to do this after Foyet and it didn't work. So in a way I understand why you did what you did, even if it tears me apart." The guilt Emily felt before was nothing compared to the wave of self-reproach that hits her now. She wants to step back, wants to get physically away from his words that find their way into her and tug at her soul, but Hotch doesn't let go of her hand. And he isn't finished yet, "Instead of breaking yourself apart, allow yourself to be whoever you want to be, whoever you are. Trust your instinct. There are limits you won't breach."

At this Emily snorts. With Doyle she proved pretty much that she knows no limits, that she shouldn't trust her instinct. She shakes her head and this time Hotch lets go of her hand so that she can step back and create a distance between them. "I don't think I can trust my instinct. And I don't understand what gave you the idea that I can," she voices her concern, avoiding his eyes. It feels as if he will be staring right into her soul the moment she looks at him again, able to see _everything_ – every thought, every feeling she never told anybody about. For now his next words buy her some time.

"You met with Doyle during the last year to save the team and you broke up with him because of me, because you couldn't bring yourself to leave me. I don't say that what you did was the right way to do it. Actually you know that in my opinion you really screwed it all up badly." Emily flinches, but still doesn't look at him as he continues to speak, "Your instinct though told you when to stop. There was a limit you didn't breach. You prioritized the safety of the team over your own and you prioritized your love for me over the safety of the team. This is human and these are your limits. You love the team like family and you love me. _This_ is your essential feature. And this is the reason why I'm still here, why I still want to be with you." Her essential feature... But what about her choice to have a little fun with Ian while labeling it all as a big sacrifice? What about Lauren? _Let him see it,_ she tells herself. _Let him see everything. _Emily gathers all her strength and forces herself to look at Hotch. She can almost feel his eyes digging deep into her soul for the truth until he sees it, all of it. The truth about Lauren. They are not married, but the vow _for better or for worse_ couldn't be more suitable. It can't get much worse than this.

Emily doesn't realize that she is crying until Hotch raises his hand to brush a tear away. He nods defeated, but he is not as broken as she would have expected him to be. So he even anticipated _this_. "I will be somehow able to handle it once," he says almost inaudible and she hears the pain in his voice. All this talk about limits, but there always will be certain areas too dark to talk about them at all. When he speaks again, there is something dangerous in his voice, almost threatening, "I understand how it could happen. After Foyet... I was a different person and Doyle somehow has this effect on you. But don't you do something like this again behind my back – _ever._"

"I won't," she breathes the promise, can't believe that he's still here.

Suddenly a devastating thought crosses her mind. "Did you have to drink to touch me again? To tell me this?"

"Did I have to drink to touch you again? No," Hotch answers. "To tell you all this? Maybe," he pauses. "To ask you what I'm about to - yes."

His hand drops to her jawline, her neck. "You said you'd do anything and there is one thing you can do for me." His words, his smell, everything is different about him tonight – but nothing that has happened so far prepares her for what he says next, "I want to meet Lauren."

Emily inhales sharply and takes another step back away from him. "Why?" She breathes much too quickly, almost hyperventilating. Dealing with serial killers on a daily basis is no problem, but the imagination that Hotch exposes her deepest secret scares her to death. Yes, he seems to already know – she read it in his eyes – but that was unspoken and this would be... real.

Hotch stands completely still. Emily senses though that his composure is a delusion. He deluded himself that he is able to handle her indiscretion when the truth is that he is about to snap. "I need to know how it feels to... be with her," he answers hoarsely. Then – almost as a self-defense – he adds, "I could have broken up with you after you told me about you and Doyle. But... I didn't, I can't. You're my weakness. And I accept that. I surrender. And I expect you to do the same. That's the only way it will work. No more secrets."

He closes the distance between them and kisses her without a warning, hard, and his unleashed passion makes her gasp for air. She feels the edge of her bed at the back of her knee. Somehow he has managed to guide them towards the bed without breaking the kiss. When he slowly pushes her down, she doesn't refuse, only wonders how his actions can be so demanding, his eyes so fierce, when his touch is so soft and tender at the same time. For a brief moment his lips are gone and he pulls off the coat and his jacket before he joins her on the bed.

As much as this – he – turns her on, Emily can't stop her thoughts from racing. What _exactly_ is it that he expects to happen? It's not as if Lauren is a completely different person. She is just a layer of her personality she usually hides. It's very difficult to think though, when he kisses his way down to her cleavage and back to her lips. All this he did before, but not like this, _never_ like this.

Hotch stops to look at her and wouldn't she already feel the physical proof, she would be able to tell by the expression in his eyes alone that the whole situation arouses him too – unsettling as it might be. "You like it dangerous," he hisses and it's pretty clear that he is talking to Lauren. "Now don't you think yourself safe when you're with me."

He takes her arms and slowly, _slowly_ pulls them over her head, holds her wrists with one hand – just like Ian did. Except that his touch is tender and doesn't hurt at all. It's the memory though that let's Emily tense up and he senses it, of course, he's doing this on purpose. "You wonder how I know," he murmurs while his free hand is tracing the shape of her body, starting at her wrist, caressing her arm, her neck, her breast and comes to a rest on the bare skin of her abdomen, where her shirt has rode up. Again – just like Ian and it starts to give her the creeps that he seems to know exactly what happened. She tenses up even more. "You wonder how I know what he did to you?" Emily can do nothing but nod. "I know it...," Hotch explains with a much too calm voice that makes her flesh crawl. "...because _we think like them_, remember? I saw your injuries and I know what I'd do if I intended to force myself... on a woman." Suddenly he sounds very much like his old self, the imagination that he could ever do something like that to _her_ too despicable to even say it. "What I would never do." As if he has to clarify that. But as fast as he changed into his usual self he changes back into that dark and dangerous version of himself. The man who intends to meet Lauren.

"Did it happen here? On the bed?" Hotch asks. She didn't specify this when she told him what happened between her and Doyle the night he attacked her in her apartment.

"Yes," Emily answers. More than once she considered buying a new bed. Then again this would feel like giving up.

His hand sneaks under her waistband, sending sweet streams of more arousal down her body, while he is nibbling at her neck and at her cleavage, but unfortunately not at the spot she wants him to – desperately. It strangely turns her on to be at his mercy. He was right. She can't think herself safe when she's with him and yet she is; there is no doubt about it. However she is afraid to let herself go, because then she will lose control of who he will sleep with tonight – her or Lauren – even if this is exactly what he wants.

Hotch kisses her, stops, then kisses her again as if he is on a wine tasting session. "No," he breaks the kiss and she can hear the anger in his voice. "You're holding back. I'm not him. I won't hurt you. Just let go. Surrender." Emily doesn't know why it eventually is so easy. Perhaps it's the unconditional trust. Perhaps it's the fact that he is showing her his dark side too. Anyway, when he kisses her once more, she does just that – she lets go. It's a relief not to control her actions and reactions, not to think about what Lauren or her real self would or would not do in a situation like this, not to be afraid that her cover will be blown. She lets go and the lines blur. It is almost frightening how swiftly her alter ego merges with her real self, how peacefully Lauren finds her way into Emily. It is uncertain how this will work in the long run. Right now though it feels better than anything she has ever felt before. No need to hide anymore. Finally she is truly free.

This time Hotch is the one to pant for breath. "Hello Lauren," he says and there is nothing but raw passion in his voice. "Nice to meet you." All of a sudden he releases her wrists. Instead his hands are all over her body now and, God, how she has missed this, missed him. This is so good. And it's different, because they are different. There is still so much they have to resolve. At that precise moment though it doesn't matter at all.

Doyle was right. As good as the sex always has been between them, she never screamed Hotch's name before. But tonight everything is different. Twice.

* * *

><p>Her apartment was lit-up almost all night. The son-of-a-bitch probably fucked her with the lights on to have a better look. He should have killed the bastard then and there when he saw him enter the building. Probably it was their reunion sex. It was the first night they were not out of town investigating a crime and even if he is no profiler, it is not hard to imagine that they might have had some... <em>difficulties<em> during the first time after her confession that most likely prevented nights like this. She confessed, he is certain about that, because there was no other possibility left to warn and protect the team.

He knows that they are looking for him everywhere. The best bet is to hide right out in the open. He has been here every night during the last two weeks, but she was never home before.

It feels like years ago that he... _visited_ her in her apartment and it all went to hell. But now the right moment to start his revenge has come. He didn't expect it to hurt so much – the knowledge that she is with another man right now. Someone else who touches her soft skin, who hears her moans of pleasure. He has to do something to ease the pain.

He gets out his mobile phone and dials a number. "Go," is all he says when the call is answered. It was her, who made the mistake, but they are all going to pay the death toll.

Ian Doyle takes a last look at Emily's apartment before he turns around and disappears among the shades.

* * *

><p>Emily and Hotch are sound asleep. It is still dark – inside the apartment and outside – when his phone rings.<p>

Through a sleepy haze she hears him murmur. His voice is steady at first and then, suddenly, has an edgy undertone.

"When?" she hears him ask and is more or less awake by now. Then, "I'll be there. Call the others. Convene an urgency meeting." Calls at that time of night are rarely good news and this one is no exception.

Hotch hangs up and notices that Emily is alert.

"Something has happened," he tells her, appearing much more composed than he feels. "It has to be verified yet, but it seems as if Doyle eventually has started his vendetta."

* * *

><p>To be continued<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **

There's not much to say. Doyle's hunt is on. The BAU team is in danger. And... action...

Albeit the review number slowly (and sadly) seems to drop, the number of story alerts still goes up – so I keep telling myself that I must (hopefully) do at least something properly.

Thanks a million to my loyal readers and reviewers! And to those of you, who read and didn't review before – click the button, do it for my sake, it doesn't take much time (depending on how fast you can type and how much you have to say). ;-)) Thx!

**Disclaimer: ****No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>No-one likes hospitals. The aseptic smell, the muted colors, the hushed voices. Nevertheless in times past Hotch associated something good when he thought of a hospital – Jack's birth. But this positive memory was displaced long ago by the many bad ones – the New York disaster, his almost death due to Foyet, Garcia being shot by a fake lover, Emily's injuries after Cyrus' savage beating and now this.<p>

In spite of the bad memories he wishes though that he could be there, just drive to the hospital and stay with the one of his agents that has been shot. Surgery goes on and from what he knows so far it doesn't look good. But he can't be at the hospital now, none of them can. It's too dangerous. Too many people, too many exits. A security nightmare. None of them would be safe and it's bad enough as it is. If this was no random shooting or is connected to another of their gruesome cases, Doyle really has started his revenge. There's personal protection for the wounded agent at the hospital (now that something has happened, budget cutbacks are suddenly irrelevant – it's so cynical) and the rest of them will meet at Quantico. Precautions. He doesn't want to risk anything, although he can't even be sure that the rest of them is okay. They haven't reached everyone yet.

Emily is driving and the night flies past. Dawn is near, but in a way, he thinks bitterly, there will always be darkness in their lives.

* * *

><p>Hotch has been on the phone since they left her apartment. It was Morgan who called and informed him that there had been a shooting. When a FBI agent is attacked, the superiors are informed immediately. It's standard procedure. But someone at the bureau must have screwed up so that Morgan had received the initial call instead of Hotch. Within the first 24 hours with reduced security measures the worst had happened. After Hotch told Morgan to call the others (except Emily because she was right there with him – news Morgan didn't react to at all) and to meet at Quantico, he dialed Strauss number. It was during their discussion that Emily realized she had never heard him yell at anyone before. Let alone that Strauss is his direct supervisor. Hotch was angry beyond reason though. He had predicted that something would happen. They would have stood at least a better chance to prevent this, hadn't personal protection not been cancelled because of the budget cutbacks.<p>

They arrive at Quantico and Hotch hangs up, his face an angry mask as they get out of the car. When Emily passes him by, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a brusque embrace. He didn't have time to shave and his five o'clock shadow is an unfamiliar sensation, scratching her skin softly. Well, actually an embrace in this place is unfamiliar, because this is completely against their policy to not let their private life interfere with their work. There are cameras in the parking block and someone probably has a heyday right now watching the unit chief with one of his female agents.

But Hotch obviously doesn't care. At least not now. "It could have been you," he murmurs, referring to the shooting.

"It wasn't me," Emily responds softly. "I'm here." Everything is still raw and complicated between them. The make up sex was good, incredibly good in fact. That doesn't mean though that everything is all right again just like that. The awkwardness lingers and surrounds them. It takes more than reunion sex and one straightforward conversation to find back to each other. Nevertheless a shiver of relief floods through her. In the last two weeks she wasn't certain anymore what she means to him. Most likely he wasn't certain himself and who is she to hold that against him. Yes, he told her he loves her last night, but this could have been only the heat of the moment, the desperate need to erase Doyle from the memory of her body and her soul. This open display of affection on the other hand shows her that he cares emotionally. Emily closes her arms around him and relishes the feeling, only now realizing how much she has missed this, missed him.

"What if it was Doyle who assigned the shooting?" she asks hesitantly and senses Hotch tense up when she mentions Doyle's name. "And what if we... or Interpol... finally find him – will you..."

"...kill him?" Hotch finishes her question.

His hands don't leave her body when he leans back to look at her. "I have taken an oath to obey the rules of the bureau... so I could only kill him in self-defense," he says slowly, stopping there, not speaking his mind aloud. Emily reads the rest in his eyes anyway. What he doesn't say is that this time he won't obey the rules of the bureau. If they catch Doyle, he will find a way to kill him.

* * *

><p>The bullpen is much too empty. Morgan and Reid are there, but that's it.<p>

"Where are the others? Did you reach them?" Hotch asks the moment they walk through the door.

"Garcia's phone goes straight to voicemail," Morgan says. "Probably she is with Kevin and doesn't want to be disturbed." Every other explanation is too devastating. "I sent someone to check." The tone of his voice implies unmistakeably that he doesn't like it at all that he can't check this out himself, that he has to hide like a coward. But that's what Hotch decided.

"Rossi?" Hotch asks next.

"Phone rings, but he doesn't answer it," Morgan responds and they all fall silent. This isn't good. They are all supposed to be on call anytime. It's weird enough that they can't reach Garcia, but she has these rebellious tendencies every once in a while. Rossi – no way. "Same here," Morgan adds with a strained voice. "They are checking on him. We should get the call any minute."

The building still is asleep in these wee hours and it's just the four of them. They all have brought their go-bags, knowing that they won't leave, let alone go home, soon. If Doyle really is on a man hunt, then it's a safe house or the spare rooms in here. Everything else is suicide, personal protection a drop in the ocean at this stage. There are whispered rumors about other agents who had to use Quantico's spare rooms before in similar situations, but they never would have thought that their names could become part of the legend.

A door closes somewhere in the background.

"I think Strauss just came in," Hotch remarks and leaves to have a word with her. Emily hopes that there won't be more yelling. Because of her Hotch is already in a difficult if not compromising situation. She doesn't want him to lose his job due to this chaos she inflicted on his life.

Without his presence beside her Emily feels even more uncomfortable, aware of the glances Morgan and Reid dart at her. JJ tried to explain to her that they all are uncomfortable around each other, because they sense her being uncomfortable, but with those two it's different. She is close to them or at least was and the sudden distance can't be fixed so easily. JJ... Emily swallows hard at the thought that her friend and colleague undergoes lifesaving surgery right now with none of them by her side. When she wakes up there will be a deserted room with nothing to look at than blank walls, with nothing to experience than pain and loneliness. She deliberately forces herself to think _when_ JJ wakes up and not _if_. Emily doesn't want to tempt fate. When Hotch called Will on their drive here she almost couldn't hold back the tears. Albeit Hotch tried to convince Will to stay with Henry, Emily is convinced that he will find a way to make sure that their sun is safe and then will get to JJ as soon as he can. It's what Hotch would do, if it was her.

"Do we know whether JJ is out of surgery by now?" Emily asks and what she really means is, _Do we know whether she survived?_ Reid looks like a lost child and shakes his head. The surgery still goes on. There has been no information on JJ's medical condition as yet. Morgan just snorts as if, oh yeah, what a hell of a question coming from her, since she's the reason for all this, and turns around to do something – or rather _anything_ – that requires to put more distance between them.

At least Reid doesn't flee and Emily touches his shoulder gently to get his attention, "Hey." He startles as if he has woken up from a dream. A bad dream. Reid and JJ have always been close; therefore it's no surprise that this upsets him particularly.

"She will be okay," Emily assures him, assures herself, because every other option is unthinkable. How is she supposed to live with the blood of her friend on her hands?

Reid lifts his head to look at her and Emily holds his gaze to give him the much needed support and strength that things will turn out well somehow, even if she has a hard time believing it herself here and now. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but he seems to believe her, his eyes darkening when he obviously contemplates on something else. "You feel guilty," he then states the obvious. Well, it doesn't take a genius to observe that. He can do better. And he does.

"When I was kidnapped and tortured, forced to choose someone to die, I felt guilty," he says and his voice is almost only a whisper. Emily nods, she remembers the horrible moments when they helplessly watched Reid being tortured, when he eventually said Hotch's name to save his own life, chose him as the one to die. Even if they hadn't been a couple back then, it had hurt her deeply, had felt like a betrayal, although it turned out to be a clever move from Reid to let them know his whereabouts so that they were finally able to rescue him. Emily doesn't exactly understand what Reid is trying to tell her. It feels good though that he talks to her, makes an effort to discuss instead to judge or ignore her. "But that wasn't the only thing I felt guilty about," Reid continues. "Of course the whole experience to be kidnapped and tortured was... horrible. The drugs I was forced to take... that was horrible too... at first... and then... it was so good. And I needed to recreate this high over and over again. I just couldn't stop. I wanted to, but I couldn't." Reid has talked himself into a frenzy. It is his usual modus, speeding up, talking faster and faster, until it is an inextricable constant flow of letters and no single words anymore. Emily nods again. Yes, she remembers this too - vividly. How he changed, how he behaved inappropriately and aggressively – especially towards her. Reid screws up his face in a mixture of embarrassment and pain. Albeit these are no fragrant memories, he slows down his talk, wants her to get the point, "I always associated the drug use with my kidnapping. Still I couldn't stop myself from taking drugs. I felt so guilty and yet the high felt so good." Reid shoots a side glance at her, "I know how it is when you're unable to stop with whatever you're doing, no matter how self-destructive it might be."

The silence when he stops talking is deafening. Emily is torn between gratefulness and humiliation. She didn't make the connection, missed the forest for the trees. Of course it is Reid – with his history of mistreating himself – who is able to understand her and her messed up relationship with Doyle at best. She doesn't ask how Reid can know about her and Doyle, whether Garcia or JJ told him or whether the genius figured it out all by himself. Most likely they all know by now. At least this would explain Morgan's reaction towards her that was even more tense than usual. Just when Emily is about to speak, Reid's facial expression changes. There is something else.

"Doyle didn't kill you a year ago when he killed your former team," Reid states thoughtful, expecting no answer. "So you being alive was to his advantage." He pauses, still caught in his thoughts. Emily has no idea what this is about. "And even now that he obviously is angry enough to attack your current team, us – and despite the pending official confirmation we all know that the attack on JJ was his work – he doesn't hurt you. So you being alive is either to his advantage to this day or a stringent necessity for him."

Emily tries to interrupt his flood of thoughts, "What..." But Reid doesn't even look at her when he continues, "You came in with Hotch and this could either be a coincidence and he picked you up on his way here – although this would have been a detour – or it could have been the trigger for Doyle." Eventually Reid's eyes meet hers and he bows his head almost apologetically. Emily is at a loss for words. She didn't consider that before, thought that there was no specific trigger for Doyle's first attack, that this night was as good or as bad as any other – _if_ this actually is his work (although she, like Reid, has no doubt about it).

She closes her eyes and lets the insight wash over her. It's true. She has always been Doyle's trigger. She is the reason that her former team is dead and that JJ is in mortal danger. If Doyle really chose this night for his first attack, because he somehow found out that she made the first steps to reconcile with Aaron then... a lump builds in her throat. Emily is aware that Reid is watching her, but still she doesn't know what to say. There are no appropriate words for this. _No, Reid_, she thinks bitterly, _you don't know how I feel. Not even remotely._

Suddenly Morgan appears. He is running, his body tensed up, phone in his hands. "Hotch...," he yells and somewhere back a door opens and Hotch and Strauss come over. "I just got a call," Morgan breathes hard and this is not caused by the few steps he had to run over. He is in a state of shock, barely able to stop his voice from shaking, "There was an explosion – at Rossi's home."

When the big picture is too much to take, the world goes into splinters. It's all about the details. The look of confusion and concern on Reid's face. Morgan's angry tension, his readiness to fight the whole world to protect his team. Hotch's calm composure, his indomitable will to exercise control. Everything is a blur of words and motions. Emily feels like a bystander.

Her cell phone vibrates. A message has come in. _JJ_, she thinks when she checks for it. _Please let it be good news. Please let her be ok_. Then she realizes how stupid these thoughts are. JJ would be in no condition after the surgery to text her a message. Well then, Garcia maybe, but the text message has been sent from a number she doesn't recognize.

_Two agents down_, Emily reads and starts shaking. _If you want to save the rest, meet me in an hour in the parking block._

There is no name, no sender, but it's not needed. Doyle hasn't given up on her. The game is still on.

* * *

><p>To be continued<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:**

This chapter is rather short, but that way I'm able to update sooner and somehow I like the cliffhanger – I'm mean, I know. ;-)

I am very excited that the number of reviews for the last chapter went up again and that there were some new names among the reviewers. So consider this a shout out to all of you who read, review and add it to favorites or alert – thank you so much! Keep on reviewing and you'll probably encourage me to update sooner. ;-))

And there is something else. I don't know how to find the appropriate words, but since I know that people from all over the world are logged in here – _I want those of you, who are from Norway, to know that you have my heartfelt sympathy in view of the horrible attack in Oslo yesterday_. Words can never ease the pain when you lost a relative or a friend. At least though please know that I'm shocked and empathize.

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

* * *

><p><em>There was an explosion at Rossi's home. <em>Morgan's strained voice lets them all freeze in shock – Strauss, Hotch, Reid and Emily. This can't be true! Not another agent in the same night.

When Morgan puts his phone on speaker, a tumult of noises fills the room. The agent, who called Morgan, obviously is sifting through the ruins of Rossi's home, his voice giving them a vague impression of what has to look like a battlefield. "The house is completely destroyed... There's a fire upstairs..." Heavy panting, while the agent is apparently climbing over debris and sirens in the background are announcing the arrival of the fire department and the rescue forces. Then louder, "Please step back ma'am... sir... thank you." More panting and climbing and then he talks to them again. "I don't understand how it is possible that the adjacent houses are still standing." So this isn't the work of a rookie. Rossi's house was the target and the destruction was precise.

"Can you see Agent Rossi?" Hotch's demanding voice, as if Rossi being alive depends on his insistence.

"Not yet," the agent answers slightly apologetically. He wants to find David Rossi almost as much as they do. They are all agents. They are the good guys and something evil happened here.

Morgan can't stand still, pacing back and forth. He is the physical type and not used to sit around and wait for someone else kicking in doors and doing everything else that is his part on a regular day. On any other day.

Strauss went back to her office, probably holding an urgency conference over the phone with Interpol or the CIA, hopefully darning them, because they didn't manage to catch Doyle. She might be a drag for Hotch and his team. But this is a threat from the outside and she is pissed. No-one seriously doubts anymore that this is Doyle's work. Two agents attacked in one night, most likely at the same time, is neither a coincidence nor the work of a deranged serial killer. Serial killers usually work alone. It took someone who deals with organized crime on a regular basis to coordinate this. Someone like Ian Doyle.

Suddenly the agent's voice turns into a frenetic shouting, "Over here! I found him! Over here!" His words are distorted over the phone.

Morgan has stopped pacing and Emily looks at him. For once he doesn't avoid her gaze. They are a committed team in the field. Search an abandoned building, arrest an armed unsub – no problem, that's what they do. They watch each other's backs. They are partners. Or at least they were. For some reason Emily wants to be near him right now, needs him more than she needs Hotch in a situation like this. But the feeling obviously isn't mutual. Morgan makes no move to come closer, let alone to comfort her.

"Describe what you see," Hotch. "Is Agent Rossi alive? Is he hurt?"

More voices, probably the rescuers. But not Rossi. Then the voice of the agent again, describing matter-of-factly the situation, just how he learned it - stick to the facts, handle the emotions later. "He is lying facedown," he describes what he sees. "The medics are examining him right now." That's good. Help is on the way.

_Hang on, Dave_, is all Emily can think. _Please, hang on. _But the next words coming out of the speaker almost let her break under the weight of her guilt. The words are somewhat muffled, coming from one of the medics. "There is no pulse. Start the rescue breathing. One... two..."

At the same time the agent continues to describe to them what is happening – unaware that they already heard it, "They are... um... there is no pulse, so they..."

"We know," Hotch cuts him off hoarsely. "We heard it."

Emily doesn't realize that a desperate cry left her throat, doesn't notice that she is sobbing – albeit there are no tears – and that Reid holds her hand clumsily in a futile effort to calm her, until Hotch grabs her shoulders, "Emily... Prentiss..." She wants to breathe, but there doesn't seem to be enough air. Softly Hotch shakes her to get her attention, "If you're not up to this, then take a break, get yourself a coffee or go sit in my office." He talks to her as the unit chief. One of his agents threatens to lose control and they have no time for this. Either she has to function or she has to leave this room. Emily nods, lacking the energy to say something, and leaves the others alone.

* * *

><p>The water is so cold that it almost hurts, but the sensation helps Emily to concentrate. She splashes the cold water in her face. Emily is in the restroom, decided to go to this rather uncomfortable space, because it has a door she can close and have a little time for herself. And there is cold water, of course. <em>Focus<em>, she tells herself. _First you need to calm down and then you need to think about what to do._ She stares at her mirror imaging. The harsh light and the lack of sleep make her look older, spent. For a brief moment she wonders what Doyle and Hotch see in her, why she attracts them. _You're not that special_, she thinks, despising herself. _Look at you. All the harm you inflict on other people's lives. On the lives of your colleagues and friends. _And now two of them are possibly dead. At this thought the composed facade, she desperately tries to keep up, threatens to crumble. Her face distorts as she almost gives in and cries about this twisted world. But she chokes back the tears, before they fall, pulls the phone out and activates the text message she received.

_Two agents down_. _If you want to save the rest, meet me in an hour in the parking block. _Her body has the same reaction just as when she read it for the first time. She can't stop shaking. Hotch thinks that she threatens to lose control because of Dave, but the truth is that her composure started to slip when she read Doyle's message sometime between Morgan's announcement that there was an explosion at Rossi's home and the devastating words that they didn't find a pulse. Thankfully the others were distracted by what happened. No-one noticed that she received a message, let alone how she reacted to it.

When Emily decided to tell Doyle that she wouldn't go with him, wouldn't leave Hotch and the team behind, it felt so right. Of course she knew that Doyle is dangerous; he openly threatened her team. But that was all it was at that time. A threat. Theory. Now it has become reality. A reality in which at least two chairs at their conference table very well could remain unoccupied in the future. She has never felt more desperate or hurt in her life. Her whole body aches. It was an idea, a concept of happiness – her life with Hotch that always somehow was overshadowed by Doyle. Now, standing in the cold silence of this impersonal space, she realizes that this is all it is and ever will be – a concept, an illusion that was never meant to become real. She is not meant to be happy. And even if she was – she can't allow herself to be happy, can't stay with Hotch, if it means that her friends have to die.

With shaking fingers she types the message, has to retype it three times, because she really is all over the place and still can barely focus – not on the words, not on what to do next, not on anything. All Emily knows is that this has to stop and that she is the only person who can stop it. When she looks at herself in the mirror, she doesn't even recognize herself anymore. She takes a deep breath and presses send.

* * *

><p>Somewhere Ian Doyle receives a text message. It's from her. <em>Stop<em>, he reads. _I'll be there._

He smiles. She never has been a woman of superfluous words. And she'll be there. Just as he expected.

Doyle dials a number. Perhaps it's already too late; frankly he doesn't care. In a twisted way though he plays fair. She will come; hence he will stop. These are the rules. He made them up and he will obey them. So when his call is answered, that's exactly what he instructs his minion to do, "Stop."

He hangs up and dials another number. "Plan B," he says. Well, he also isn't into superfluous words. And he can't wait to see her again. "Soon, love," he whispers to the approaching dawn.

* * *

><p>To be continued<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:**

Phew! For some reason I _really_ struggled with this chapter. It was incredibly difficult to write. On one hand it is only kind of an *inter-*chapter, because the events in this chapter serve the purpose to lead to the final showdown. On the other hand it turned out that it wasn't that easy to find a way to get from A to B without letting especially Emily suddenly act totally out of character. To cut a long story short – I hope I somehow managed to keep up the tension _and_ stay in character.

Right now I think there will be 15 chapters in total (meaning three more to come). There will be no loose ends. When the story is finished, you will know who survived (and who probably didn't) and how the Emily/Lauren/Hotch/Doyle storyline is solved. When it comes to the team, Emily by now dealt with almost everyone regarding Doyle – except for one team member (if you paid attention, you know in an instant who I'm referring to). So this will be part of the upcoming chapters too.

Thank you for reviewing and letting me know what you like (or dislike, although I hope there's not too much and if there is, please be gentle letting me know :)) about the story. Your reviews and support make all the lack of sleep and the frustration, when a chapter (like this one) is difficult to write, much easier to handle.

Random remark (1): My spelling program always wants to auto correct *Hotchner* to *hotter*. :)

Random remark (2): This is a completely spontaneous idea: If you could choose (and I don't say that you can, but if you could) – would you like Ian Doyle to die or to stay alive at the end of the story? Just curious... Let me know, if you like.

**Disclaimer: ****No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>When Emily comes back to the bullpen, it's empty except for Reid. He has a worried look on his face, but he doesn't seem to be as devastated as he was when they listened to the phone call earlier. Emily takes in the surroundings. No phone on speaker anymore, no Morgan, no Hotch.<p>

The moment Reid sees her, he spills it all out, eager to let her know, "The hospital called. JJ is out of surgery. Her condition is still critical, but they say it's not life threatening anymore." Reid smiles and it feels so good to see something else aside from concern and fear in the face of one of her colleagues and friends. Emily smiles back at him and they share a brief moment of happiness in a world that is upside down.

When he doesn't tell her about Rossi, Emily hesitantly asks, "What about Dave?"

Reid swallows. So these news are probably nowhere near as good and for the split of a second Emily wonders whether he now informs her that Rossi didn't make it. Then again she can't imagine Hotch and Morgan leaving Reid alone after such a stroke of fate.

"They resuscitated him," Reid answers, confirming her assumption that these may be bad news, but that she doesn't have to expect the worst. "He's on his way to the hospital. To another hospital than the one JJ is in for reasons of security. Hotch arranged that to...," he pauses. To make them more difficult to target, he doesn't have to say it out loud. Emily knows. Splitting them up is supposed to make it harder for Doyle – for _whoever did this,_ if you preferred to quote the language regulation, because there still is no official verification that this is Doyle's work – to track them down and attack them a second time. It is ambiguous whether their survival was pure luck or deliberate, so chances are that _whoever did this_ isn't finished yet. Reid fiddles around with his hands and doesn't look at Emily when he adds, "They are not sure whether he will make it."

She nods. Not the worst, albeit she hoped for better news on Rossi. Be that as it may, now that Emily has confirmation that both of her friends are alive, the plan will be put into action. She takes a deep breath and... shuts down completely, compartmentalizes to the point where she feels nothing at all. She can do that, has done it before many times when the ferociousness of the job was too overwhelming. And just like that the thought of Rossi fighting for his life doesn't hurt anymore; the imagination of JJ alone in her hospital bed is just an information and nothing else. She welcomes the strange calm as the complete opposite of her inner turmoil just minutes ago. It is the calm before the storm though. Not a healthy acceptance but a conscious choice to replace her emotions temporarily with a numbness that helps her to get through this.

Emily knows that this works only for awhile and that she has to act while her shield is up. She made a decision and contacted Doyle. However she has no idea what to do when she meets him in... she checks the time... less than 30 minutes. She has no intention to go with Doyle. _Then why don't you tell them_, her inner voice whispers. _Why don't you tell Hotch? If you don't intend to leave him, do you really think he will forgive you doing something like that behind his back again? _Well, the explanation is as simple as shattering – she doesn't tell Hotch, because he told her that he would kill Doyle given the chance. And in spite of everything, as much as she resents Doyle for what he did to JJ and Rossi, she still can't bring herself to want Ian dead. Therefore she hasn't given up on the idea that she will be able to find a way to save her team _and_ to save Doyle. And this always lets her come to the same conclusion – she has to meet Doyle alone and somehow convince him to stop this madness, whatever the price will be. _Whatever the price will be..._ It's a risky endeavor – one way or the other. Tell Hotch that Doyle wants to meet her and he will kill him. Tell Doyle that she won't meet him and he will pursue his killing spree. Somehow she has to do neither and both at the same time, let alone avoid the consequences. Damn it! She used to work for Interpol; she's a trained FBI agent. There has to be a way! Emily looks up at Hotch's office, sees his silhouette moving behind the blinds. She decided to meet Ian, but she has another decision to make and she is running out of time.

* * *

><p>After telling Emily about JJ and Rossi, Reid buried himself in some scientific essays at his computer. They still haven't heard about Garcia and his way of distraction is to keep his intellect busy.<p>

The door to Hotch's office is ajar. Nonetheless Emily knocks before she steps in. She always does that. Here at the BAU he is her superior and she behaves appropriately. Hotch sits at his desk and the moment she looks at him, she knows that it was a bad idea to come here. She hasn't made up her mind as yet. It is cynical, but it would be much easier for her to decide what to do, if one or both of her friends were dead. Then she wouldn't mind Hotch killing Doyle, would even kill him herself. As it is, though, Doyle somehow managed to keep them alive. The well-known gray area that has become his trademark.

"Are you ok?" Hotch asks, genuinely worried, and she realizes that he scrutinized her the whole time while her thoughts were jumping back and forth.

"Yes," she responds, although this is far from the truth, and for a moment she almost hopes that he catches her lying. _You're a profiler_, she thinks. _Don't you recognize a lie when you hear one?_ _Especially from someone you know so well?_ But that someone – she – knows very well how to hide her true feelings. "I'm still a little wobbly on my legs," she admits and this _is_ true. Nothing better than serving a lie combined with a truth that fits her breakdown earlier and also explains why she is so nervous and agitated right now.

Everything about these surroundings and this situation is so familiar – the way he sits at his desk, the way he looks at her, the almost unnoticeable but pleasant fragrance of his aftershave. Emily has been in here so often that she can't even remotely imagine this being the last time. The pain that flashes through her at the thought is unbearable and suddenly her shield is gone. It happens. Sometimes impressions cause emotions so strong that there is a crack in her shell, even if this shouldn't be possible. A smell, a simple gesture, a long forgotten memory that comes to life – anything can be the trigger. As it is now, it is a mixture of it all. Hotch's odor, the simple gesture when he looks at her, the memories they share – tiny but important fragments of their lives that took place here in this room. Usually she manages to rebuild the shield quickly. But not this time. This time the nagging pain she feels inside is a clear signal to stop this compartmentalizing shit. This time it will rip her in pieces, if she continues to block the rest of the world – and especially him – out, that much she is sure of. So there's really no other way than to tell Hotch. Emily doesn't actually know, if she will be able to convince him in the short time that's left to support her plan, accept that she wants to meet Doyle and not kill him on the spot. At least, though, she has to give it a try. No more lies.

"Hotch...," she starts, just when his phone rings.

He answers it, of course, and Emily furtively checks the time. She has less than 15 minutes left until she is supposed to meet Doyle.

"Hotch..." she starts one more time, trying to attract his attention. But his saturnine look stops the words in her throat.

"Is she still inside?" he asks, strung up, and there is not clear who he is talking about. One of them? Then it has to be JJ or Garcia.

"Who?" Emily mouths and wonders how many bad news they are able to take in one night.

"Can you defuse it?" Hotch again. _God_, she thinks, _no, not another bomb_.

But reality is laughing right in her face when Hotch takes a piece of paper and scribbles something on it hastily. _Bomb. Car. Garcia inside. _Emily's heart skips a beat. She doesn't know the details yet – whether the bomb is under the car or inside, whether it is programmed to explode when Garcia manipulates the door opener or the ignition; perhaps it will simply detonate when someone presses the mechanical time fuze. Most likely the agents in the field don't know either and have already alerted the bomb squad. As long as the bomb isn't defused, though, it might explode any moment and it will take time for the bomb squad to get there and dismantle it. Time she doesn't have. This bomb is no fake. The bullet in JJ's body and the explosion at Rossi's home also were no fake, but – if her theory is correct – they probably were meant rather to threaten and hurt than to kill. This time there will be no wounded. This bomb will kill Garcia. Therefore Emily has to assume that Doyle has a man on site to make sure this bomb goes off, if she doesn't show up in time.

Emily is dimly aware that Hotch touches her hand reassuringly. He sees the shock and awe on her face. And the guilt, so much guilt. There is no time left to explain anything, to come up with a plan how they can catch Doyle. Not as long as Garcia is in mortal danger. Emily feels the traitorous cell phone in her trousers like a phantom pain, the secret messages between her and Doyle threatening to burn the fabric. So much for her idea to tell Hotch. He is needed here to coordinate the situation and he needs Morgan with him to calm Garcia over the phone as long as she has to stay in the car. And Reid... Emily loves Spencer like a brother, but he is just not the kind of agent you take along when it's a matter of life or death. At least not when the fight takes place in real life and not in a virtual world of brain cells. She rather goes alone than risk his life. So there is no time to tell anyone and no-one left to take along. It will be just her and Doyle.

She takes a step back and feels the pull of Hotch's presence almost physically. _Hold me back_, she thinks desperately and knows at the same time that she has to do this, that there is no other choice. She bitterly remembers a quote someone once told her. _Three options mean you have a choice. Two options are a dilemma._ How true! If she stays Garcia will most likely die and if she leaves... The emotions wash over her, but all of a sudden it is there – a clear thought in all this chaos, even if she might be clutching at any straw right now. Perhaps she just found a way to handle this.

Hotch covers the speaker of his phone with his hand. "Get hold of Morgan and Reid," he orders and Emily sprints out of his office. She has only five minutes left to meet Doyle.

* * *

><p>To be continued<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:**

Sorry, that it took me so long to update, but life is really busy these days. (And I'm also sorry in advance, because I guess you'll probably have to wait until next weekend for the next update, because I have some business appointments this week so there will be not much free time left to write – just that you know what to expect. Of course I hope that you'll stick around anyway, because the next chapter will be the final showdown.)

One word about the setting of this chapter: I can't remember for the world whether the BAU building has an underground parking garage or where they park their nice black SUVs. Don't know whether I just missed it on the show or they really never showed it. Therefore in my story the parking block is inside the building. If this is not correct, it's my continuity error. :)

This chapter is long and intense to make up for the wait. Really! I hope you have as much thrill and fun reading it as I had writing it.

**greengirl82: **Hope you like *your scene* and enjoy it. :)

As always thank you so much for reviewing and favoring my story and putting it on story alert. I'm really excited what you think about this chapter. So let me know, please, and R&R!

**Disclaimer: ****No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

* * *

><p>Hotch hears Emily talk to Reid in the bullpen. He can't make out the single words, but it's a short and tense conversation. Then she's off to get Morgan and Reid's hurried steps approach his office. When he appears in the door frame, Reid's face is distorted with worry and concern, his body bowed with grief. They all are short of crossing the line of bearableness one way or the other.<p>

There is not much happening at the other end of the phone right now. Since they can't get on site, Hotch insisted on keeping the line open until the bomb is defused and Garcia is save. It's the only way he can stay in control, even if it's partly an illusion. Garcia's life depends on the bomb squad and not on him.

What they can do, though, is support her emotionally. Hotch's plan is to let Morgan talk to Penelope to soothe her. The agent in the field gave him a description of a woman with _brash clothes and a funky hairstyle_ sitting frozen in shock in the car and talking to herself, obviously in an effort to get a grasp of her panic. Morgan is really needed here. Hotch could also try to talk to Garcia, but he knows that he is only second best for this job. He nods briefly to Reid, barely suppressing his impatience, and hopes that Morgan and Emily join them soon.

* * *

><p>The parking block is empty except for their SUVs and some cars that belong to the security guards. In approximately an hour it will start to fill, but right now it is a forlorn empty space with gray walls and a gray floor.<p>

Emily doesn't know where exactly Doyle wants to meet her. Aside from the parking block he gave her no specification. She is unconcerned about it though. He will find her. And due to the lack of other cars or people it's not as if she could be overlooked.

She holds the spare key to Hotch's SUV in her hand just in case she runs across somebody who's not Doyle, although it's unlikely at this early hour. The flimsy excuse for being here is that she needs something out of her go-bag that's in Hotch's car.

There are steps behind her and her heart starts to pound rapidly. She is afraid and... something else at the same time. This _something else_ is – apart from the necessity to save her team and stop this madness – the main reason why she is here. It's a surreal and weird situation and she doesn't know whether to smile or to scream at the man she expects to see when she eventually turns around. She does none of it, because...

"Morgan!" to say that she is surprised is an understatement.

She didn't go to look for him after she had left Reid. It would have required an explanation better than her flimsy excuse to steal away from Morgan and she had neither the time nor the nerve to confront him, afraid that he would see through her plan in an instant. Hotch worries about her, but he is busy coordinating Garcia's rescue, distracted by the effort to get his team out of harm's way. Morgan however is also for sure worried about the whole situation, but without the obligations of a Unit Chief he can fully concentrate on his anger and distrust. Apparently she underestimated him albeit working with profilers should have taught her never to do that. He managed to follow her covertly and she dreads to think about what the consequences might be, how dangerous it is for him to be here.

"Prentiss," he greets her with a voice that is a mixture of reluctance and sarcasm. He believes that he has figured it – her – out. "Going for a spin in the car?" Morgan detected the key in her hand and she is close to Hotch's SUV. Therefore he assumes that she is about to run off.

This is not the Derek Morgan Emily is used to handle, not the man who is her partner and friend and trusts her with his life. Truth be told she doesn't know how to deal with this angry and wary version of Derek Morgan. Any way, she has no time to come up with an elaborate plan, because there simply is none, and falls back on the flimsy excuse.

"I just need something out of my go-bag. It's not _that_ exciting, but of course you can watch over my search and rescue mission." Too late Emily becomes aware that her choice of words is more than inappropriate. They listened to a search and rescue mission earlier over the phone, when Rossi was found, and right now Hotch and Reid are listening to it again, hoping that Garcia's life will be saved. She averts her gaze, ashamed of her slip. "Did you miss me so much that you had to follow me?" she goes off on a tangent. It's a lame attempt to imitate the light banter that used to be inherent in almost each and every of their conversations. These days are gone, though, and Morgan doesn't react. There is no response, no smile, no nothing.

As if this isn't bad enough, she only then realizes that her petty excuse won't save her. If he stays until she pretends to have found whatever she isn't really looking for in her go-bag, she won't have gained anything. Morgan will expect her to go back with him to the bullpen. And that's the one thing she can't do.

Doyle will be here any minute. Probably he is already here, hidden somewhere. He wouldn't risk meeting her without having checked the surroundings first. Therefore, by all means, she has to get Morgan out of here as fast as possible.

Emily stops in the middle of the movement. She has already turned around halfway and lifted her arm to open the car. Now she lowers it again and turns back. They stand a few feet apart, face to face, and Morgan is lying in wait for her next move.

"Derek," there is a slight tremble in her voice and his facial expression changes when he registers the combination of his first name and her obvious distress. She searches for the right words to convince him and ends up with the truth. He is a profiler after all. "I'm not running off," she assures him. "But I _need_ you to go back to Hotch and Reid. _Please_," she urges him.

Morgan studies her. "Why?" he plainly asks, much too calm for her taste, because she knows that he is anything but inside.

"Please go back," she repeats, her voice barely a whisper, and he takes a step closer to her. During the last weeks she had been hoping for him to get closer to her again – emotionally and physically. Now that it is about to happen, she wishes he would just turn around and leave.

"If you neither intend to run off nor to come back with me, why do you stay?" Morgan's voice is dead, distant. He has come to a conclusion. "You're meeting... _someone_." He has a strong assumption and doesn't want to say the name.

"Morgan..." This time Emily takes a step closer and her hand finds its way to his chest in a clumsy effort to push him away and connect to him at the same time. She is desperate by now. He has to leave. Now! Time is up and Doyle is for sure watching them, waiting for the right moment.

Derek doesn't move when she touches him, but the contact indeed creates some kind of connection between them. It would be the wrong wording to say that they are physically close. But their partnership is full of physical moments – kicking in doors, overwhelming suspects, jumping, running, risking their lives. And they always watch each other's back, ever ready to help each other. Emily feels his heartbeat through his shirt, strong and angry, and despite the adverse circumstances it comforts her. Morgan is still furious, but the resentment is subdued now, making room for something else.

He holds her gaze. "I won't leave you here behind to meet Doyle," he says and the cold rage, when he says Doyle's name, sends a shiver down her spine. "If need be I'll knock you out, give you a fireman's lift and carry you all the way back."

Morgan grabs her hand that clings to his shirt and covers it with his. The gesture doesn't fit the anger she still sees in his eyes and yet she is able to see beyond it for the first time after he learned about her and Doyle. Morgan might be hurt and mad, but he desperately wants to trust her again. She just doesn't give him the chance, acting suspiciously and sneaking away.

"Emily...," he says hoarsely and something inside her breaks. She wants to hug him, tell him everything, wants to yell at him to run for his life and does none of it, because the shadow behind him suddenly moves and out of the blue he is there – just like she imagined it.

One of her worst nightmares becomes reality when she sees Ian Doyle press a gun against Morgan's neck.

* * *

><p>"Hi, love," Doyle says, unfazed that she is not alone. "I missed you."<p>

Morgan freezes, his hand twitching towards his holster, but not accomplishing the movement when the pressure against his neck is increased. Emily jumps back and trains her gun on Doyle.

"Let him go," she hisses. "He wasn't meant to be here." As if she could argue rationally with Doyle. As if he lets him go, now that Morgan knows he is here.

Derek's body is tensed up. He waits for the right moment to attack and Emily tries to signal him with her eyes that this isn't a good idea. Not as long as Doyle presses the gun against his neck, not as long as there might be a chance that she can talk Doyle out of... what? Hurting Morgan, pulling the trigger, killing him – it all is too devastating to even think about it. Thank goodness, he recognizes the look in her eyes and... She expects Morgan to nod imperceptibly. But he doesn't. Instead he just stares with a vacant expression at her. The moment of brief closeness, just a few minutes ago, seems to be forgotten. Doyle's appearance caused his blood to stir and his anger has gained the upper hand again.

"Does Hotch know what you're doing?" Morgan. His voice is as cold as ice. "Hotch and you came in together tonight. Is it really that easy for you? Replacing one man by another?" Emily is uncertain whether he is trying to antagonize Doyle or humiliate her.

"Watch your mouth, hot shot," Ian says, although he rather seems to enjoy Morgan's words. There is a dangerous sparkle in his eyes that scares Emily. Nevertheless right now she notices him only vaguely, because in spite of the hurt and humiliation she hangs on Morgan's every word. Even if her gun is still trained on Doyle, she doesn't have a clear line of fire anyway. Their stand-off is rather to remind Doyle of the balance of power.

"On the other hand...," Derek continues as if Doyle didn't say anything. "...that's exactly what you've been doing for the last months, isn't it? Replacing one man by another? Back and forth – again and again." She already assumed that he knows it. The whole team knows. Why would he be the exception? But somehow him knowing it is the worst of all. Morgan is by far not without flaws, but he has a high morale and abides by it. Hence his words feel like a slap in her face and her cheeks burn with shame.

"That's enough," Emily hears Ian say and to her surprise it's not the indifferent or cold-blooded tone of voice she expected. His voice is soft and almost gentle, because he sees her hurt and discomfort. Doyle really is the master of gray areas. Only he can express sympathy while pressing a gun against someone's neck.

Emily's thoughts are racing. Ian behaves pretty much as she predicted – kind in a weird way, while brutally pursuing his plan. Morgan's presence is the factor she didn't consider. He is a barrier – in the true sense of the word. She can't get close to Ian – as close as she needs to get to disarm him – because then Doyle would have to let Morgan go. And since that's the one thing he won't do, the only other alternative is to put Morgan out of action. And that's the one thing she can't even remotely imagine to do. No more blood of any of her friends on her hands. This is a damn fucking impasse.

"What next?" she asks no-one in particular; the question could as well be addressed only to herself. Emily wonders how much time has passed by. Probably not more than a couple of minutes. Nevertheless it won't take much longer until Hotch starts to worry why she and Morgan don't show up. Next he will search for them, realizing they're gone and then hell will break lose. She has to make sure that Garcia is save by then. Otherwise everything was in vain.

"Yeah, what next?" Morgan echoes her and Emily realizes that she is running out of time for more than one reason. If she doesn't find a way out soon, he will continue to antagonize Doyle until he shoots him.

"I will go with you," Emily tells Doyle hastily and with much more confidence than she actually feels, ignoring the snort she hears from Morgan. She avoids to look at Derek, completely concentrating on Ian. He is absolutely calm and composed. A man on a mission.

"Love," Ian says soothingly, as if talking to a child. "I guess we both know that you won't come with me. We've already been there, remember?" As if she could forget that night. Ever.

"Yes, I remember," she whispers, resenting the fear and the weakness that choke her when the memories flood through her.

Doyle's eyes darken – perhaps because of the memories of that night that flood through him too or perhaps because of what he is about to say.

"I know that you won't come with me. That's why I'm here to spend some time with you alone – to say goodbye," he tells her with a steady voice and for the split of a second Emily feels a sting at the thought that this really is goodbye, that she will never see him again. Then she becomes aware of the situation again, the gun that is still pressed against Morgan's neck and she notices Derek tense up even more. He might be angry with her, but he will never allow Doyle to be alone with her as long as he has a say in the matter.

"Ok," she agrees seemingly anyway. "But I need proof first that Penelope is safe."

One step at a time. First she has to make sure that Garcia is out of danger. Then she will somehow manage to save Morgan, even if she has no idea as yet how to do it. Emily's pulse rate speeds up. Even if they survived the primal attack, it's not certain that JJ and Rossi will make it. Emily doesn't know how she will react, if Doyle tells her now that Penelope is dead. But...

"She will be fine," Doyle says casually to her relief. Garcia means nothing to him. She is just a pawn in a game, no longer of use for him. At least Morgan remains silent for the time being. Perhaps the reminder of his dear friend in mortal danger put it all into perspective. However – without proof, Emily doesn't believe Doyle.

"Prove it," she demands and to her surprise he pulls out a phone, dials a number, hits mute so that they can't be heard via the microphone and puts it on speaker. All this while his other hand that presses the gun against Morgan's neck never is wavering. They hear flustered voices through the speaker, several people running around and then... Garcia's voice – muffled, but it's definitely her and she seems to be still in the car and is talking to someone over the phone – Hotch. His voice, albeit even more muffled, cuts into Emily like a knife. She has no time to be overcome by emotions though. Doyle's man must be very close to the scene. Nonetheless the wind blows away words and voices so that they can make out only parts of the conversation between Hotch and Garcia. Obviously she has been asking repeatedly for Morgan and Hotch tries to stave her off more or less successfully.

"This is no proof," Emily states. "She's still in danger."

"The bomb didn't explode," Doyle responds, but they both hear the word he doesn't utter – _yet_. And the only reason it hasn't exploded until now is that she is here. The silence that follows – interrupted only by the sounds coming out of the speaker – is heavy with meaning. They all know that the moment, Garcia is safe, Emily will have no more reason to play along – except for Morgan held at gunpoint that is. His presence offers Doyle even more potential to threaten her into obeying his wishes.

Just when Emily hears through the speaker, what she has been waiting for – the bomb squad arriving – Doyle hangs up, causing Morgan to hiss frustrated and leaving her with the queasy feeling that the bomb will hopefully be defused fast enough, before Doyle changes his mind and revises his order not to fire it. He sneers at her, well aware that it is pure agony for her not to know whether her friend is safe or not.

"Declan is gone," Doyle suddenly goes off on a tangent and his mood gets distinctly darker. He is in mental agony too. Emily wasn't certain until now whether her late night calls to old contacts paid off or not. Now she has to suppress a smirk at the thought that she actually managed to save Declan one more time. Take that, Ian!

"Three minutes," he says then and Emily briefly wonders whether this sudden change of subjects implies that he is getting irrational, before she understands what he means. The bomb. Doyle gave the order. He knows what technology they used to build the bomb. Therefore he also knows how long it takes to defuse it. This will take the squad approximately three more minutes.

Reflexively Emily starts counting the seconds up to Garcia's rescue in her head – one... two... three...

Ian studies her, his body tensed up like Morgan's, the fighter in his element. Even if he doesn't move, doesn't even blink, she can tell that he wants to be near her, hold her close, make her participate in the goodbye scene he is longing for. _If_ it really is a goodbye he has in mind.

This might be her chance. Doyle wants to get rid of Morgan just as much as she wants to whisk him to safety. Emily looks around, searching for a storeroom where they could lock Morgan in. The only possibility she can think of that doesn't include Derek being injured or worse.

Instantly Doyle knows what she is looking for. "There is no storeroom here," he states and smiles at her, satisfied that he still can read her so easily.

With this Emily's hopes to get Morgan out more or less unharmed are blasted. She needs to play for time then, even if she doesn't know exactly how. But Morgan won't let it go.

"Nice, Prentiss," he huffs. "Just lock me in and throw the key away so that you can play happy family." His voice oozes sarcasm and she can't be sure whether he deliberately tries to antagonize Doyle even further or just isn't able to control his rage anymore.

No matter what – this is not the time for it, because the seconds are ticking away much too slowly – thirty-two... thirty-three... If Doyle and Morgan continue their testosterone match, they will all be dead soon.

"Shut up, Morgan," she almost yells at him, before taking a deep breath to compose herself, just as Morgan's phone rings.

_No, no, no, this is too soon! _The bomb is not defused yet, if Doyle's timeline is correct, and somehow she believes that it is.

But Hotch obviously is done waiting for her and Morgan and he or Reid started calling them. Emily don't know whether they called her or Morgan's phone first. She won't hear hers ring anyway, because she didn't bring it here. She left it in Hotch's office hidden under a cushion of his couch. When they find it, they will read the message she quickly typed but didn't send to Hotch on the display – _Parking block. Doyle. Now. Wait until Garcia is safe._ That was her plan – rough-and-ready, but better than nothing. Stall Doyle until the bomb is defused and Penelope is out of harm's way, wait for the back up to arrive and... end this. She didn't think that far ahead, doesn't do it right now. What does _end this _mean? That she will convince Doyle to leave them alone, to not threaten them anymore? Unlikely. That she – or at least someone – has to kill him? More likely. Now, though, that Morgan is here, there is so much more at stake than her own life. Even if she somehow manages to stall Doyle until Garcia is safe, what will happen to Morgan? Will Doyle hurt or kill him given the chance? Probably. And all of a sudden the thought of _ending this_ chokes her and lets her shiver with fear.

Doyle knows too that time is running out. She can see it in his face. Determination. He wants to be alone with her, aware that he has only minutes left at best, before the cavalry rushes in. Therefore he has to get rid of Morgan. Now.

* * *

><p>It is only the twitch of a muscle, a slight change of the direction in which the gun is pointed. The shot is muted by the muffler. Morgan's scream isn't when the bullet goes right through his thigh and he goes down just to be pulled up by Doyle into the same position they were in before, gun pressed against his neck. Morgan limps, the blood gushing in bright red streams out of his leg, and shifts the weight of his body to his uninjured leg.<p>

She almost pulled the trigger. It all happened so fast. Doyle had already shot Morgan when she realized what he was up to. Emily still has no clear line of fire and forces herself to stay calm, even if she knows that Morgan's pain and shock are reflected in her face. When Derek screamed, his voice was overlapped by her own. Her throat hurts. Her whole body hurts. A phantom pain caused by having to helplessly watch her best friend suffer terribly. He needs medical attention. Already she can see the signs that he is getting weaker due to the loss of blood.

"You can let him go now. Just leave him here. He is no danger anymore," Emily tells Ian, trying not to wince at the amount of blood that continues to stream out of Morgan's thigh, although the tremble in her voice betrays her outer calm. _So much blood... _She darts a glance at Morgan, willing him to understand what she is doing. _Trust me, _she pleads silently, but Morgan's eyes are focused on something else. He starts to slip away and it scares her to death when she realizes that he has not much time left until the blood loss will lead to unconsciousness and then...

Doyle doesn't react to her words and she doesn't know what he is waiting for. It was bad enough when she had to listen to what happened to Rossi and Garcia over the phone. But this scenario happens right in front of her and yet she can do nothing about it.

"What? Do you expect me to stand here and watch him bleed to death?" Emily spits at Ian. "Do you think this will lead to the goodbye scene you have in mind? Well, I don't think so." She is angry beyond reason and desperate by now, willing to do anything to save Morgan. Perhaps this is what Doyle had in mind when he shot Derek. "Ian," she craves. "_Please_. Let him go or let us go... somewhere else." Somewhere else where he wouldn't be able to finish his work and kill Morgan. Somewhere else so that Hotch and Reid can find Morgan and get him to a hospital. "I'll do anything," she begs. "But please... don't let him die." The last words come out almost inaudible and the irony is not lost on her that she told Hotch exactly the same several nights ago, that she would do anything, even if she had completely different reasons back then.

Doyle's facial expression changes. At first he had been annoyed when he had seen Morgan. But then he realized that this was the missing piece he needed to push her over the edge. And here she is _begging_ him, offering to do _anything_ as long as he spares him. In spite of his plan to kill Morgan (ah yes, the bullet through the thigh was just to prolong his agony), he considers to keep him alive at least a little bit longer, just for fun, just to pull the strings and make her do anything. On the other hand...

"Put your gun down," he says and Emily knows, just _knows_, that the moment she does this, he is going to kill Morgan with a shot in the back of the neck. This is Doyle's goodbye and even if she still is convinced that he won't kill her, he is here not only to say goodbye but to hurt her – deeply. And hurting her by hurting her friends was his plan all along. And it works.

"I can't do that," she refuses and knows that he didn't really expect her to, but couldn't resist the opportunity. Doyle just tried to make Morgan's death her fault. The guilt, the questions whether she would have been able to prevent it, hadn't she put the gun down, would have haunted her forever.

"I thought you'd do _anything_," Ian repeats her earlier plea and the way he pronounces the last word has a gentle, almost seductive, quality and gives the dreadful situation a weird and inappropriate sexual undertone.

Emily's brain is in overdrive. She is no genius like Reid, but she is a trained agent, learned how to react in situations like this when it's a matter of life and death and you have to come up with a solution to save a life – your own or the life of your partner – in the split of a second. And suddenly she knows that there is only one thing that will save Morgan's life.

"Anything but that," she says. Emily can see that her steady voice irritates him. Doyle is aware that she made a decision and not knowing what it is makes him nervous – rightfully so. What is about to happen will definitely throw him out of balance.

"Now _you_ put the gun down and let Morgan go. Otherwise there will be no goodbye," Emily hisses and holds her gun against her temple, watching the shock on Ian's face with a fierce satisfaction. He hadn't planned on that!

"Do you really believe that I consider my life worth living, if you kill him right before my eyes," she yells at him at the top of her lungs. "You should know me better by now, Ian."

Emily is panting, her hand that holds the gun shaking violently, and she can only pray that she doesn't pull the trigger involuntarily due to the waves of fear that flood through her. She has no intention of killing herself, but the whole situation is so desperate and intense that her actions come off convincing anyway. She can see it in Ian's face. He believes that she is going to kill herself and that's all it takes.

"I'm counting to three," she whispers, holding Ian's gaze – who seems to be in a state of shock – and right at this moment she almost believes it herself, is willing to go through with it, willing to do anything to save Morgan, just as she told Doyle. Except that he didn't have this kind of _anything_ in mind.

"One...," she starts the countdown hoarsely.

"Stop this bullshit!" Ian obviously has regained his poise and also has found his tongue.

"Then... _Put. Your damn gun. Down_," Emily growls and she knows she almost has him. It's the look on his face, she knows so well, his body language. He will give in to her. In a way it has always been like this between them. He pushed her to do things she didn't want to do, but at the end of the day it was her who called the shots.

"Two...," she continues mercilessly as she sees Morgan's gaze focus on her, suddenly realizing what she is doing. He tries to shake his head, his mouth tries to form a word – _no_ – but he is to weak to say it out loud.

"Three..."

Everything happens at the same time.

Doyle lunges at Morgan and knocks him unconscious with the gun, just as there is an explosion somewhere in the building. The floor vibrates and parts of the ceiling fall off. Emily is hit on the head and she goes down. When she dashes against the cement floor, she is only centimeters away from Morgan's limp body. She tries to get up, but the head wound makes her dizzy and the world starts to spin.

The last thing she sees before everything goes black is Doyle moving in her direction.

The last thing she hears is Hotch's voice from a distance calling her name.

And then... nothing.

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:**

**I'm really, really sorry that it took me so long to update! **I hope you're not mad at me, but I was in a bad mood and had a severe writer's block. Even now I am still not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but enough is enough, so... this is it.

Since I for once didn't respond to those who reviewed the last chapter individually, let me thank you in this way: **greengirl82, charleantheresas, Nena Cero, SabrinaPrentiss, HPforever-after, lilylynn (a new name on the review list, welcome!) – thanks a lot for your review and your support.** At the end of the day it's the knowledge that there are people like you out there – reading and enjoying this – that makes the effort worthwhile. I hope you'll also let me know what you think about this chapter. So R&R please!

There will be one more chapter, kind of an epilogue, and then the story will be done. And I hope this time you won't need to wait another whole week, but that I will somehow manage to write the last chapter and put it online within the next couple of days. Keep your fingers crossed. :)

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>They have just reached the parking block when they hear and feel the explosion.<p>

Hotch had still been on the phone, trying to calm Garcia, when Reid called first Morgan and then Emily. Morgan hadn't answered and the call had gone to his mailbox, but Emily's phone... rang. At first they didn't understand, until Reid detected her phone under the cushion on the sofa, saw the message that she had typed to be read on the display by whoever picked it up and handed it over to Hotch.

_Parking block. Doyle. Now. Wait until Garcia is safe. _There had been no hesitation on Hotch's side. He threw the handset to Reid with a gesture that said that he was supposed to take over talking to Garcia. Then he ran out of his office.

Fortunately at this stage it had taken not more than one or two more minutes until the bomb was defused and Penelope was safe, so that Reid was able to follow Hotch.

And here they are, ready to face their nemesis, when the world suddenly is shaking and parts of the ceiling come off. It only lasts a few seconds. They don't move, frozen in complete darkness, and then the emergency lighting comes on, accompanied by the acute sound of the alarm.

The parking block is not severely damaged or in danger of collapsing, although there is debris all over. It is a huge area and they just have climbed over one or two rubble mountains when...

"Over there!" Reid shouts, pointing at a body that lies motionless on the floor.

Dust whirls around and they have a miserable sight so that Hotch can't make out whether it's the body of a man or a woman. It's only when they take a closer look that they recognize Morgan and two things hit Hotch at once – the pool of blood and the relief that it's not her. He cringes because of the cynicism. Of course he is in no way glad to have found Morgan under these circumstances. If he had to choose between him and Emily though...

"I have a pulse," Reid says, securing the artery with his belt, while Hotch is checking the surroundings. With Morgan hurt and unconscious, Doyle can't be far away. And where Doyle is, there is also...

"Emily," Reid interrupts his thoughts. "Do you think she's with Doyle?"

"I don't know what happened here," Hotch growls. "But I'm dead certain about that."

Right in this moment Morgan groans and regains consciousness. At first he has trouble focusing, but then he distinguishes Hotch and Reid.

"He...," Morgan falls into a fit of coughing. "Doyle has her. He has Emily. He shot me and knocked me down."

He states the obvious. His wound, his unconsciousness and Emily's absence already told this story.

"Can you move?" Hotch addresses Morgan. He has lost a lot of blood, but Reid's pressure bandage stopped the bleeding and Morgan is a badass.

"With some help, yes, I think I can," Morgan responds as expected. Just now he notices the damage and the emergency lighting.

"What happened?" he asks. "I think I heard an explosion just when Doyle knocked me down."

"We don't know yet," Reid answers. "We were here when it happened."

Hotch helps Reid to set Morgan on his feet.

"Bring him out of here," he orders Reid. "Make sure he gets medical attention."

"What about you?" Reid queries, although he knows, and the look Hotch gives him in return confirms it. They came here to fight their nemesis and Hotch won't leave before this fight has taken place.

"Hotch," Morgan grabs his arm. "Emily... almost sacrificed herself to save my life." He has to swallow hard when the memories come back and the emotions threaten to overwhelm him. "I accused her wrongly, thought she wanted to run off, but..."

"I know," Hotch calms him. "She sent a message." He hesitates briefly before he goes on quietly, almost talking to himself, "I would have preferred her to settle it differently, but obviously this was the only way she could do it."

Hotch slaps Morgan gently on the shoulder and watches him walk away with a limp, supported by Reid's slender figure. Morgan is still dizzy and weak, but he will make it. They found him just in time.

He takes a deep breath, turns around and looks in the vastness of the parking block. Doyle is waiting for him here somewhere. Hotch feels it in his bones.

* * *

><p>Emily regains consciousness to the constant and annoying sound of an alarm that gives her a headache. She tastes dust and when she opens her eyes, a reddish light illuminates the surroundings – the emergency lighting.<p>

Then she remembers – Morgan lying unconscious next to her on the floor, Hotch's voice calling her name and Doyle approaching her. She sits up with a jerk, but when a wave of nausea floods through her, she lies down again. It's only now that she really takes in her surroundings – the jacket that was placed under her head to make it a bit more comfortable for her to lie on the hard concrete floor, the room she's in. Not the parking block anymore – a room. There are some shelves with tools; apart from this the room is empty.

Aside from her head, several body parts hurt too – apparently she couldn't cushion her fall when she was knocked unconscious by a chunk of debris and fell down beside Morgan on the floor. Morgan... Emily sits up again slowly and this time she can control the nausea. No Morgan. She listens. No Hotch calling for her. Then she hears steps approaching her and her hand goes instinctively to her holster – an empty holster as it turns out. The steps come closer and she recognizes Ian's face. He wears no jacket anymore and there is blood on his cheek. Obviously he also was hit by a chunk of debris. She doesn't want to think about other explanations why his face is smudgy with blood – especially not ones that include Morgan's or Hotch's fate.

Doyle looks down on her and she doesn't like the imbalance, wants to get up to draw level with him (at least approximately) in height, but he cowers before her instead and dabs off her head wound carefully. It hurts; she probably needs stitches.

"Where are we?" she breaks the silence, looking around again. "This looks like a storeroom, but you said...," she stops. Of course he didn't tell her the truth earlier. This is part of his plan and he couldn't let her know. She nods as the realization dawns on her. He must have carried her over here, meaning he left Morgan behind. The fear is raw and painful. Why isn't Morgan here? What did Doyle do to him? It scares Emily to pose the question, dreading Ian's answer. There is no other option though. She has to know.

"What about Morgan?" she eventually asks all the same, holding her breath.

"He'll live," Doyle responds after a short pause, perhaps considered lying to her just for the effect, for the pain it would have caused, even if she can't be certain that this is the truth. With this man she can never be certain about anything. "They probably found him by now."

He doesn't specify who _they_ are, but Emily strongly assumes that he is talking about Hotch and Reid. So she wasn't mistaken. She heard Hotch's voice. And if Doyle knows that he has Reid with him, he saw them too. They can't be far away. The storeroom probably is somewhere in the parking block. Doyle didn't have that much time to flee and wouldn't have been able to carry her unnoticed through the building.

Suddenly the alarm stops. The silence is a relief, although the reddish light still adds to the surreality of the whole situation.

"The explosion was your work," Emily states, not doubting it.

"In the lobby," he answers with a shrug, not caring whether innocent people were hurt or worse. "It was part of the plan. A distraction to keep your team busy, until...," he trails off. _Until he would have had enough time to take her along._ A plan he didn't put into action for some reason. Emily wonders why she's still here and not somewhere on the road in a getaway car with him. Then she realizes. When Hotch and Reid appeared, Doyle knew that she had told them her whereabouts and what was about to happen. Something that caused him to change his plans, to stay in this trap.

He still is dabbing off the blood of her head wound, perhaps just looking for a pretense to be close to her.

"You took my gun," she says. Another statement. It's like a check list. The altered surroundings. Check. The explosion. Check. The missing gun. Check.

This remark seems to trigger something though. Doyle avoids her eyes and shifts uncomfortably before he responds, most likely reminded of her threat to kill herself if he doesn't let Morgan go.

"Couldn't let you keep it," he responds casually, _too_ casually. Apparently by taking it, he wanted to make sure that she can't hurt herself rather than that she can't hurt him.

"So what next?" Emily slightly touches his hand that holds the cloth, soaked with her blood by now. She is not afraid of him. An inner calm fills her. The endless circle of repetition that affected their lives during the last months or even years will finally come to an end. "Is this goodbye?" she whispers and her eyes find his.

In spite of her inner calm she suddenly feels the urge to put some distance between them. Emily gets up clumsily, still a little wobbly on her feet, but she manages to stand and he gets up too. There's no way Doyle will allow her to look down on him.

The look on his face changes. His eyes become softer and his hand touches her jawline.

"Yes, I think so," he says wistfully and she has never seen him so sad and defeated. Then the expression in his eyes darkens and his hand slips down to her throat, clutching it, but without too much pressure. It feels uncomfortable and slightly threatening. Emily is not scared though. Yet. Nevertheless he has made his point. He is in charge here.

Emily tries to suppress the need to swallow – a physical response to ensure that she is still able to breathe, to live. Instead she holds his gaze.

"What would be your last words?" Ian asks quietly – a question that can be interpreted in various ways. Her last words if this is goodbye? Or her last words if he...? As if to underline the fact that it is up to him to make this decision, Doyle increases the pressure, strangles her a little so that she is reminded that he could kill her with his bare hands anytime. He won't allow her to shoot herself, but it's a different matter when _he_ makes the decision about life or death. She is already dizzy because of her head wound and feels consciousness starting to fade again. The moment he realizes this, he loosens his grip. He has demonstrated his power. No need to exaggerate.

This is the situation Emily had been waiting for earlier. A chance to get close to him, to distract and then disarm him. Morgan was in the way back then. Right now she realizes that she won't stand a chance. Even without a head wound he is much stronger (and proved it several nights ago), so putting up a fight won't do her any good. In fact she doesn't even feel the need to put up a fight. She shares the sadness she saw in his eyes. They've come a long way and as much as she despises him for what he did to her and her team, she can't deny that a part of her needed him in the past to help her achieve a balance between herself and Lauren when no-one else could. These days are over though. Hotch knows everything and proved that he is able to handle the Lauren part of her persona, actually _wants_ to deal with it. So this is goodbye indeed.

Emily steps closer, the distance she longed for just minutes ago no longer required. "My last words to you...," she whispers. "...would be...no words." She kisses him softly and is surprised when he doesn't react as she expected him to. He doesn't grab her or hug her to himself roughly. He doesn't even intensify the kiss to make it more passionate, more _them_. It's as if he just accepts what she offers him, well aware that this is their last time. Kissing her back, holding her, but demanding nothing that she doesn't offer freely.

She knows that it is wrong to kiss him, let alone feel the way she does, but she can't help it. There are no appropriate words to say goodbye. Her hands find their way to his hips and she leans against him, wanting to feel him. As a sideline she registers that the gun in his shoulder holster is within reach. Emily doesn't know where he put her gun. Perhaps in the ankle holster and maybe she would even manage to get hold of one of the guns, if she pushed this... kissing thing any further. But that's not what she wants. That's not how she wants them to say goodbye.

There is something about his demeanor that seems to suggest that he is no threat anymore. He could have ambushed Hotch and Reid and shot them point-blank. But he didn't. He could have run off – with or without her. But he didn't. He wants to say goodbye to her – that much she knows. But she is uncertain what he has planned afterwards. The whole scenario has a finality that is somehow unsettling. Ian Doyle doesn't walk into a trap on purpose, unless... he never intended to walk out again.

Emily breaks the kiss with a gasp when the realization hits her, the question written all over her face. _What are you doing?_ Until now she thought that this was about stopping Doyle from killing her team or kidnapping her. Now this might be about stopping him from killing himself – if she wants to stop him that is – leaving the even more unsettling question unanswered whether he intends to claim her life.

She has already been there, done that. Just when she decides that he is no threat to her anymore, that she doesn't need a gun to protect herself, the situation changes drastically and she wishes she wouldn't have to confront him unarmed. It was like this the night at her apartment and it is like this now.

Ian senses the change in her behavior and – if possible – his eyes darken even more. He knows that she's on to him.

Emily doesn't move. Her hands still rest on his hips, close to the gun in his holster, but not daring to make an – most likely futile – attempt to take it from him. His hands rest on her shoulders and he leans his forehead against hers in a tender gesture. Then he pulls away and turns around in a sudden movement that reflects how difficult it is for him to break the physical contact and leave her alone. Doyle walks quickly to the steel door, while Emily is trying to remember whether she ever saw it before, whether this damn storeroom is on the level where Hotch's SUV is parked, but she can't tell for the world.

Just when she ponders how to get past Ian and through that door, he opens it and over his shoulder she can see a figure approach the storeroom – Hotch.

With an infuriated yell Emily throws herself forward and lunges at Doyle. She is too late though. With an almost casual movement Ian steps out of the door, slams it in her face and locks it.

One or two seconds. If she had been a little bit faster, not handicapped by her head wound and the still blurry vision, she would have made it. She throws her body against the solid door again and again desperately, aware that she won't be able to kick it in or unlock it, screaming herself hoarse when she calls out Hotch's name over and over, drumming her fists against the steel causing her knuckles to bleed. But no matter what she does, no matter how much she wants, _needs_ to get out of this room – Emily is doomed to wait until the door will open again. It's only then that she will see the face of the man who survived the fight that takes place outside right now.

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><p>Fate has a weird sense of humor. Hotch watches the door of the storeroom being opened from the inside, detects Emily standing behind Doyle, just to lose sight of her again. The last thing he sees is the blood on her face and the scream her mouth forms when she realizes that Doyle is locking her in. <em>She's alive<em>, he calms himself. And nothing else matters.

They both have pulled their guns out in an instant and freeze a few steps apart in a stand-off. Hotch is panting heavily. He has been running around, climbing over wreckage, for a while now. Doyle doesn't even sweat.

"You won't make it out of the building," Hotch states. He isn't certain what Doyle is up to, although he probably wouldn't be here anymore, if he really wanted to run off. Perhaps this is why he doesn't react at all to his statement. Anyway it is the first rule of a negotiation – make contact, bond with your opponent. It's an automatism kicking in, but Hotch's blood is up when he thinks of _bonding_ with Ian Doyle. There is only one reason he is here and he won't need his negotiation skills for it. The explosion destroyed the regular power supply and Hotch is pretty sure that the cameras in the parking block are not working at the moment. He has come thus far. Now he wants it all. He wants to see Doyle dead and still keep his reputation, his job. No cameras, no proof.

Even if Ian is no profiler, he notices the change in Hotch's eyes and in his body language. Despite the fact that they are mortal enemies, he respects this man, considers him to be a worthy adversary. Nonetheless he didn't bargain on what happens next.

Doyle isn't the only one who can read facial expressions and body language. Hotch senses that Doyle won't shoot him – just like he won't shoot Doyle. None of them wants it to be that easy. Therefore he puts down his gun and takes off his jacket, registering the surprised but approving flicker in Doyle's eyes right before he mirrors his actions and also puts his gun down.

Albeit the urge to knock down Doyle with his bare hands is overwhelming, it's theory and Hotch isn't the man to put his thoughts into action unless there is a specific justification. Something Doyle offers him willingly.

"Hope you did it with her rudely last night," he provokes Hotch blatantly. "She likes that."

It's easy to figure it out. Doyle wants him to start the fight. But right now it doesn't matter. Hotch gladly accepts the invitation.

The first blow hits Doyle's nose and the quiet _crack_ lets Hotch shiver with satisfaction and anticipation. _Yes!_ That's exactly what he came here for.

They are equal in strength and pugnacity. Doyle might have better abilities as a street fighter, but Hotch is trained in close combat. It's blood and sweat and bones threatening to break. They stumble and fall, throw each other against walls and down on the floor. None of them is superior to the other. As the fight continues their movements become slower; physical strength eventually fades. Giving up is no option for none of them though.

When they pause briefly to take a breath, they can hear Emily's muffled cries. They can't make out the words, but she probably can hear them fighting and it must be pure torture for her not to be able to see what is going on outside.

"You don't know her," Doyle gasps, when Hotch is distracted by Emily's voice. He could have easily used this moment to his advantage, taking Hotch out, but he doesn't. Instead Doyle ducks, avoiding another of Hotch's hard punches, before he adds, "Not like I know her."

"I know everything I need to know," Hotch can't resist the bait. He is aware that this is going to hurt Doyle much more than his punches. "I met Lauren last night. She is no longer your dirty secret."

Even if Hotch's words were meant to deliberately hurt and divert Doyle, he didn't expect him to snap. With an almost inhuman roar he attacks Hotch and it's only now that Hotch realizes how deeply this man desires and loves the woman in the next room – Lauren, Emily, whatever he calls her.

"I don't have to threaten the people she cares about to make her sleep with me," Hotch antagonizes Doyle even more and relishes the taste of revenge on his tongue. "I don't have to lock her in to make her stay with me."

They are so caught in their clinch, in their battle of words, that they don't notice Reid has come back. He brought Morgan into safety, made sure that he received first aid by their emergency medical service that is always on duty and called for back up. It will take the back up a while to get there though. The lobby is completely destroyed, the access to the building difficult, and it has to be ensured first that there are no more bombs buried under the ruins before they send anyone in. The explosion already cost two of the security guards their lives. Reid neither wanted to get out of the building nor to wait for the back up eventually being allowed to come in. Their team is falling apart, more than half of them injured, and he couldn't stand the thought that he had to leave Hotch alone. They are the only ones who are not injured. But when he watches Doyle and Hotch fight from a distance, he realizes that he has to correct this thought. Actually he is the only one without any visible injuries. Hotch, albeit alive, looks pretty bruised and bleeding. As for Emily – Reid recognized her voice. Obviously she is locked in the storeroom. Since she for sure didn't decide to stay there by her own choice, he assumes it's a safe bet that she is somehow injured too. Otherwise she wouldn't have allowed this to happen.

Reid hides behind debris and waits for the right moment, then sneaks up to the storeroom and unlocks the door. Emily practically tumbles into his arms, stumbling over her feet in the effort to get out as soon as possible. When she sees the two men – bathed in blood and staggering – she freezes.

"Give me your gun," she whispers to Reid. If this ends badly – and she is almost certain that it will – she doesn't want him to be the one who has to pull the trigger. He hands it over to her without hesitation, apparently sharing her estimation and approving of it.

It's only now that Hotch and Doyle observe that the door of the storeroom is open and see her and Reid.

Doyle has staggered back a few steps after Hotch's last punch that followed his words so he is closer to Emily than Hotch. When Doyle turns around and shortens the distance even more, Hotch is ready to lunge at him, but the soft click, as Emily cocks the gun, stops him dead in his tracks.

"Stay back," she hisses through gritted teeth and it is directed at Reid as well as at Hotch. "Let me do this my way. I need to finish this – once and for all."

Reid doesn't move. Hotch, though, doesn't want to submit to Emily's will. He came here to kill Doyle with his bare hands. And Doyle is much too close to her for his taste. The gun practically is in contact with his chest. And as reassuring as this might be, it also means that their bodies almost touch. A sight he doesn't handle well. At all.

"Aaron, please...," Emily says and her words and the way she utters them force Hotch to finally stand still. Her eyes hold Ian's gaze. She hasn't looked away since she trained the gun on him.

Knowing something and seeing the proof for it with your own eyes are two entirely different things. Ian knew that Emily loves Hotch. But seeing it in her eyes right now, hearing it in her voice goes so much deeper than the simple knowledge. He experiences the unleashed pain of rejection, becomes aware that it has always been like this. Whatever he was to her, he never had _this_. At least it makes the execution of the needful easier in a way.

"I'm going to kill him," Doyle murmurs so that only Emily can hear his words. "This will be my masterpiece."

"Don't think I won't do it," Emily warns him, surprised that she manages to keep her voice even. "Just because I didn't pull the trigger some nights ago at my apartment, don't think I won't do it now."

Like Doyle she speaks in a hushed voice so that Hotch can't understand her words. Anyway Hotch can barely restrain himself. It drives him insane to see her standing so close to this dangerous man, who was her lover when she was undercover, who forced her into a sick relationship, who attempted to rape her. Yet he accepts her wish to bring this to an end, accepts that she needs the finalization more than he needs revenge.

"Yes," Doyle's voice is down to a whisper. "I know." He pauses and his gaze gets even more intense. "So do it."

Emily stares at him. _So this is goodbye..._

By now she hates Ian. For all he did to her and her team. She never loved him, but she needed him once. She often wanted to kill him. Wanting it and doing it, though...

"No," she shakes her head imperceptibly.

"Want to know my last words to you?" Ian asks.

This time she doesn't have a response, has to blink away tears. Emily knows what is about to happen. Yet when Ian grabs her hand that holds the gun, it feels as if she should have been able to prevent it, as if she failed.

"Pull the damn fucking trigger," he says and does exactly that, forces her to do it. Perhaps she struggles to hamper it, perhaps she would have done it anyway. Now she'll never know.

Hotch and Reid move at the same time. When they see Doyle go for the gun, they both lunge at him. However Doyle is already dead, before they reach him, before his body hits the ground.

"Are you okay?" Emily rather reads Hotch's lips, since hearing is somewhat difficult, the gun shot still ringing in her ears. Hotch gently takes the gun and gives it to Reid. Her gaze follows his actions and comes to a rest on her own hands, on the blood that spattered on them and on the rest of her body. Ian's blood. Hotch caresses her face, studies the head wound concerned. The more distanced she becomes, the more he is afraid that she will go into a shock.

_Want to know my last words to you..._ Emily knows that she should feel relieved. But she feels like a hollow shell instead, as if she has lost herself, as if she is under water and can't breathe. Doyle has defined her for too long. Now that he is gone, it feels as if she is shattered into a thousand pieces. She saw it coming and even if the outcome is all right, not all ends justify the means.

Emily looks hesitantly down on Ian's body, his dead eyes staring into nothingness. Even if she did everything to keep him away from his son, Declan lost his father today and this fills her with an endless sadness. She knows that it is better for Declan to be raised by another family and that she also will heal eventually. Only now and here it doesn't feel like this. She searches Hotch's eyes, is finally able to focus on him.

"No," she says hoarsely. "I'm not okay."

Her hands desperately clutch at him and Hotch all but has to catch her from falling when her legs suddenly turn to jelly. They end up in a weird embrace. Hotch holds her close, but she doesn't give in completely, holds her arms like a barrier in front of her as if trying to push him away, while she is clinging to him at the same time. It's only when Emily speaks again that Hotch realizes she isn't pushing him away – she is fighting against herself, pushing herself to say the words he never has heard from her before and probably will never hear again. "Help me."

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><p>To be continued<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:**

So this is it – the final chapter. As announced it's more like an epilogue, a mirror to the first chapter (kind of a prologue) with a similar structure. I like the idea of "closing the circle" this way.

I really hope you enjoy the read. The chapter is supposed to wrap things up for H/P and the team. As much as I like hot and steamy, this is more quiet and (almost) philosophical. Hence I hope no-one is disappointed. It just felt right to end the story like this.

This is your last chance to review. If you never let me know before what you think about this story – please do it now. This is also a huge thank you to all of you, who reviewed, put the story on alert or chose it as one of your favorites! Thanks a bunch.

**Disclaimer: ****No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.**

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><p>Two years ago Aaron Hotchner's life had changed for the better.<p>

After his failed marriage and the mischief Foyet had inflicted on him and his family, happiness had been completely out of reach. To this day he isn't sure what exactly had prompted him to ask Emily out. He likes the idea of himself as a man in control, in charge. Yet he had allowed himself this, well, _slip_ – at least that's what it somehow had been back then. He remembers the relief. Of course he also had been surprised at his own guts and nervous what her answer would be. Most of all, though, he had been relieved – regardless of her answer. She could have said no (and Thank God she hadn't), but his question had ended this whole _what if_ scenario he had been abiding for years. There's nothing worse than always thinking about alternative ways to live your life and never acting upon it.

So he had acted and he had been rewarded. The _what if_ had been – hesitantly but steadily – replaced by a _what next_ that had promised cautious contentment at first and then... happiness.

* * *

><p>One year ago something changed again, but not for the better this time.<p>

In retrospect it's easy to say that he should have noticed the signs. On the other hand – as a profiler he should have indeed. Perhaps it was just too painful to see through the denial. Perhaps he didn't want to allow another _what if_ to take over, because this time there was no promise of happiness or even relief waiting for him. At the end of the day, however, he never _ever_ would have thought a scenario as the one presented to him later on to be remotely probable.

Life always has a surprise in store. And they don't always make you smile. Hence Hotch was tempted to call this whole relationship thing off, admit his failure (once more) and go back to his days as a lone wolf. You can't decide not to love anymore though.

* * *

><p>And here he is today – standing in his office and watching the empty bullpen.<p>

The emptiness shatters his nerves. He still can't think of his team without hearing a shot (JJ), an explosion (Rossi), a panicked voice (Garcia) or smelling the blood of an injury and impending death (Morgan).

Reid comes in and greets him with a preoccupied gesture. Most likely he already is in the middle of some trains of thought nobody else is able to understand.

Hotch closes his eyes briefly. He could have lost everything. His job. His team. His life. He is grateful for what is left.

He hears the elevator doors and then the sound of crutches on the floor accompanied by a bubbly voice. Morgan shouldn't be here, but he just can't bring himself to stay at home and Hotch can't bring himself to reprimand him for wanting to be here. And Garcia, of course, insists on escorting him to his desk before she disappears in her farraginous office that is her shield against the world – now more than ever.

JJ's office is abandoned. She makes a prolonged vacation together with her family. They need time to digest the fact that she almost died on a day that was like any other day.

The randomness of it all is the worst. Some days should come with warning signs, with red flashing signals that read _keep off_. Instead the sun is shining and children are laughing and everything feels perfect until... it's too late and your world is upside down before you can even blink.

Hotch sits down at his desk, opening a file and pretending to read it. It's what he does these days when the emotions threaten to overwhelm him. He doesn't actually read the file, but turning the pages calms him – a repetitive motion, giving his life the desperately needed structure.

In a way what happened is worse than Foyet, because this time they were all involved. They were all injured in one way or the other. Except Reid they all have the scars of their wounds to prove it. And Emily carries the burden of guilt on top. The events left a mark on all of them and it will take time to get over it.

It would be too easy to lay all the blame on Emily though. Sometimes Hotch asks himself whether his propensity for perfection and control chased her away from him and right into Ian Doyle's arms. He doesn't look for excuses but for explanations. As opposed to the whispers of the office grapevine he makes mistakes; he just usually doesn't repeat them. And he for sure doesn't intend to repeat this one.

_Help me_, she said to him after she had shot Doyle. _I'm not okay_. Somehow these words hurt him more than to see her wounded and bleeding, because he realized then and there that she never had said that before. And despite the fact that she is a stubborn personality and tends to settle things for herself, there should have been a situation before – at least _one_ – in which she felt comfortable enough to ask him for help. But she never did.

People who seemingly have no flaws often appear to be unlikeable; whereas a flaw often gives a person an appealing authenticity. At least as long as the flaw doesn't define the character.

Hotch wonders if Doyle was their test. If what happened was a strange twist of fate to make him break through his protective shield of professionalism and stoicism and make her admit that her alter ego Lauren is an inseparable part of her personality – to make them both become aware of their flaws and accept them instead of pushing them away as they did in the past.

On the surface none of them changed, but the alterations are there – right beneath it. Hotch doesn't want to forgive and forget, let alone that he simply can't. In a cruel, albeit at the same time healing way, they both need to suffer first before they will get better again.

Emily still has nightmares, wakes up screaming almost every night. At one point she told him about it. She relives the scenario of shooting Doyle, except that in the last moment he ducks away and her bullet hits Hotch. He's the one she sees dying right in front of her. It's his blood that spatters on her hands and all over the rest of her body. Hotch knows that it is utterly wrong, but he feels a grim satisfaction each time he watches her wake up and fight her demons. It's retribution. And some day the nightmares will end.

His retribution is the almost loss of his team. The shivers that come unexpected when he is alone in his office – as he is now. The raw fear when he looks at her and is reminded that he could have lost her, could have lost everything. This too will end sometime.

These days they talk, _really_ talk. Of course they always communicated, but this is different. They open up, talk about things they spared deliberately before – her childhood, his marriage, Foyet, Doyle. It's painful but necessary. And slowly they get better.

Hotch hears footsteps in the hallway. Rossi and Emily have just arrived. They checked a tip of a whistleblower about a child molester. In spite of their inner demons there always will be real demons outside.

Rossi walks into his own office and Emily knocks at Hotch's door.

"Hey," she greets him with a smile. "The tip was a false alarm. Just wanted to let you know that I'm back." He heard them. She didn't have to come here to tell him so. But they act like this currently – reassuring each other that they are within each other's reach.

"Yes, you're back," he repeats her words and actually manages a smile. Some alterations have already reached the surface.

Emily turns around to join Reid and Morgan in the bullpen and Hotch looks at the file in front of him. The shivers he felt before have vanished. He opens the first page and starts to read...

* * *

><p>The end<p> 


End file.
